English as a Second Language
by inafrozenworld
Summary: He was already tackling his ex-wife, custody over their two small children and his new life alone, he was expecting a mysterious foreign lodger to be a hassle… quite the opposite… A single chance encounter brought them together for the better.
1. A Little Introduction

_a/n: You can skip this if you dislike lengthy author's notes at the beginning as much as I do but I felt I should probably say that, yes OCs are involved but if they'd been Clamp characters it'd just get a bit disturbing. They barely ever appear though, it's nearly entirely Fye and Kurogane. So I hope you enjoy =) …_

* * *

"Mio-chan! It's good to see you again," he cried delightedly as he swung open the door, revealing the single girl behind it. He blinked. "Where's Usui?"

"He's doing something with his friends," she said, shrugging, slipping off her shoes as she entered casually and languidly slid her school bag off her shoulder, passing through the flat and dumping it beside the leather sofa. She turned around, taking out the ties in her hair, and asked, "Where's dad?"

"Working, he won't be back till late," Fye said, shutting the door and following her through, a playful spring in his step.

"So… it's just the two of us for a while?" she asked, self-consciously clasping her own wrist and smiling lightly.

"Don't sound so offended," Fye laughed as he sank into the desk chair he'd previously been sat in, closing applications and shutting down the computer now he had company to entertain. He turned to her, head perched on hand, a light wink. "You'd think you hate coming here."

"No!" she quickly cried, shaking her head. "Being honest," she sighed, placing herself down on the sofa, "it makes a nice change."

"Mmmm," Fye hummed as he came to sit across from her, smoothly and politely skipping over the subject, refusing to comment. "So how's school?"

"Not bad," she muttered with a small and sweet smile upon her face. Slowly it slipped, her eyes drifting as she concentrated on her words. "Actually, I'm glad Usui's not here. There's something I've been needing to say."

"What's that?" he asked softly, eyes now glowing sympathetically, attentively.

She looked up to him sharply, guiltily, and took a breath. "When I was little, I never saw anything out of the ordinary in any of this. I didn't know any different really. But now that I'm older … I can see it now for what it is and it feels strange." She hastily added, "I'm not ungrateful or annoyed and I definitely don't think it's wrong but it's just… different from a few years ago."

Fye smiled warmly towards her, his step-daughter, he supposed. "It's alright, it's only natural for you to feel that way. I'm just glad you wanted to get it off your chest."

"But I've realised as well," she looked him directly in the eye, deep pools of sympathy and worry, "it must be so hard for you both this way."

His smile slipped to the side, shining fondly and appreciatively. "Thanks for the care, Mio, but it's honestly not that bad." His eyes dropped, reflecting upon something. "I suppose it was hard to begin with but not like you're thinking. It was more things like language barriers and getting other people adjusted to the idea. We're just a bit of an odd couple," he laughed warmly, unhindered. "Most of the challenges were things I had to overcome myself before we got together. And there isn't a challenge I wouldn't overcome for your father."

She smiled, young eyes opening to a more complex world. "You really love him, don't you?"

Fye nodded lightly, beaming, a great emotional depth beneath. "He really grew on me when we first met. And after that, I couldn't stop thinking about him and how I wanted to be with him." His smile took on a humorous taint. "I'm so lucky to be with Kuro-sama."

Mio's eyebrows furrowed. "How _did_ you meet?"

He mocked a gasp, smiling in amusement. "He never told you?"

She shook her head. "I can't remember anyone telling me. And I never thought about it. But I'm curious now."

He grinned slyly. "That surprises me," he said smoothly, voice capturing interest and intrigue. "It was because of you that we met."

She blinked in surprise. "Really?"

He stood up, smiling secretively and dropping a hand closer to the floor. "You were only this high." He then glanced up to her, almost challenging, joking, as he made his way through to the kitchen, "Do you want to hear the story? We could have some tea and talk before I make dinner."

"Yeah, I'll help you cook as well," she said, getting up to follow him through, sleek hair brushing against her back.

"You don't have to," he said lightly, used to the routine.

"That's alright," she said in a quietly enthusiastic tone, "I enjoy it. And I'm interested now. How did you get together?"

He smiled whimsically as he took the tea from the cupboard, brushing his blonde hair lightly from his eyes…

* * *

_a/n: My friend suggested Usui as a name so if you recognise it from anywhere then sorry I have no idea! A huge thanks to her for reading this over for me and to Me Or The Wallpaper for coming up with the title! This is just an introduction so the first proper chapter is coming soon. And remember reviews make the world go round and me keep posting ;)_


	2. They met at a red man

He was adamant to make the most of Sunday.

He woke up in the morning, eyes flicking towards the clock and forcing himself up hurriedly, showering, shaving and changing in a demented blur, busier than on most weekday mornings. Forgetting breakfast, gulping a quick morning coffee, he flew out the door into his car.

In retrospect those vital seconds may not have mattered in the end. The traffic was much heavier than he'd expected, his ex-wife in the mood to pick a fight. He'd bundled the two children into the car, conscious of the passing minutes that made up hours.

Clutching their small hands, Kurogane took them through the park, frazzled and hectic lifestyle slowly receding into a muted background. He had one day per week to enjoy fatherhood, the rest he spent on a busy schedule, living alone in an apartment about a thirty five minute drive from his previous home. So when Sunday came, time suddenly became a more pressing matter than usual. The hours would whittle away into dust, held tightly in his clenched fist, still escaping to the wind through thick and persistent fingers. He watched his children on the roundabout from a bench.

Where time had gone, where his life had decided to slip and turn, he had no idea now – all he knew is that he had to be grateful for these precious little hours with them. When he could, he would buy them treats. Being strong, he'd push roundabouts and swings, something daddy was best at. He'd watch over them with a parental and loving eye, taking care, showering them with his dulled and blunted affections, never an emotional type of person to begin with. He did his utmost to be a father to them. Although even in these small, personal moments he felt his situation pressing into him and influencing his actions. Not a single scraped knee would be taken home nor a tear shed. That was the extent of the pressure he was under.

He'd divorced from his wife of five years for the simple reason that they weren't getting on as well as they used to. It was true, they'd been in love to begin with, but those were simple times when one didn't share the other's burdens or expect much out of their partner. The years passing by, the demands of their work and their children increasing, digging in and creating tension, it had become difficult to find that same carefree love that they'd shared in the past in their everyday life together. The biggest problem, however, was their personalities. The opportunity to compromise had slipped completely out of their grasp, lost to a joint and equal stubborn nature. Under those sorts of tensions, two quick-tempers could easily lose scope. Even worse, as they began to lose patience, their words had to be shut tight and contained in front of their two young children. That way everything built up inside them, burning inside over hours before letting off steam, arguments turning into almighty clashes.

In the end she'd taken the children and driven off to stay at her sister's for a few days, leaving Kurogane behind in an empty, wrecked shell of a home, a deepening realisation burrowing into him furiously that she had struck the first blow, that she'd moved quicker than he'd expected to give herself the advantage. After that everything came to work against him. She'd been the one to kick him out, to assert a more dominant right to look after their children and attempted to cut him from their lives as much as she could stand while still remaining human.

It made Kurogane wonder why he'd ever married the bitch in the first place.

He still had a fight to pick with her. There was no way in hell he'd let her mess him about like this and sit by idly. As much as he hated the thought of putting his kids through this shit at an age so young, he refused to let them be taken out of his life. He refused to watch as they were taken away from him, willing to do anything to remain a part of their lives.

He found himself buying ice cream and balloons within a battle for child custody.

And it nearly all slipped out his grasp when his daughter let go of her balloon.

***

Opportunities don't come falling out the sky, do they?

Standing there, waiting for a light to change, a growing bubble of fear inside, a steady realisation washed over him. It had been a bit of a naïve preconception. A breath of fresh air, a new scene had been all he'd wanted – not this. As it turned out, his ambitions had made a walking ruin out of him and walk was all he could do immersed in a new world, a sea of unknown. There were few signs he could read, no-one to communicate with; he'd turn a corner and face the same view as ever: a totally empty world brimming with life, crammed with metal, set in concrete, crawling with cars. He felt like a piece of driftwood bobbing afloat a vast ocean, devoid of knowledge or control and praying some coastline would come his lucky way.

He sighed. Escaping one mess to voluntarily encounter a worse one. The irony was killing him.

He was hungry and tired and illogical; his feet hurt, the drumming whisper slowly embedding, hammering itself into his consciousness – I want to go home.

Grazing against self-pity, he glanced up to a darkening sky, beginning to overbear, watching a balloon drift silently by. Japan was meant to be more than this, right?

And opportunities don't come swooping down divinely to smack the misfortunate in the face.

In the eventuality, she bumped into him from behind.

He jumped, surprised and turned around, automatically and instinctively grabbing the small girl's shoulders. Halting her in her tracks, he glances down in confusion, then upwards as his hair swings, brushing his forehead, blowing and billowing as a bus sweeps by at speed. He sighed a breath of relief as he looked down on her, feeling somehow awkward and inappropriate as he clung on to her, scared to let go lest she made a dive for the road again.

The girl merely stared up to him, uncertain and scared, then averted her attention to the clouding sky.

A balloon floated lazily by.

Ah.

He heard a sharp call, an aggravated and anxious yell. "Mio!"

The girl yanked herself free, wriggling loose from his hands, running towards this man, her father, crying, "_Oto-saaaaaaaaan!_" And Fye couldn't help but smile at the reunion – the man, heavily-set, broad and uncompromising, tagging along his young son, embracing his little girl, caught between relief and anger, frowning as she pointed innocently and sweetly towards her lost balloon, tugging at his shirt, oblivious to the danger it had put her in.

Detached now that his small role had been played, Fye smiled fondly. Until the father turned to him.

The light changed to green.

***

An arm around Mio, he said to the stranger, "_Arigato._" Mostly out of gratitude, merely glad she was safe.

He raised his eyes and suddenly faced two blue eyes, open wide in bemusement, but a kind face, a delicately polite smile gracing the surface, not sure how to respond but understanding his meaning and intention.

Kurogane frowned, starting again, this time in English. "Thank you."

The man before him, young and blonde, blinked for a moment, forehead creasing in slight confusion before raising his eyebrows in realisation, clearing away the accent. "You're welcome." He grinned amiably, a touch beyond what may have been called for.

Kurogane's brow furrowed, taking in a strange accent, but he soon decided to forget, ignoring it and about to move on before he heard that voice again.

The accent clouded his words slightly, throwing Kurogane off, yet all the same the young man before him spoke with clarity and intention. "Can you help me? I've not met anyone who can speak English today."

He stopped in his tracks, still holding on to his son and his daughter, turning to face this foreign man as if he were causing offence. An intrusion of precious time.

The man stared back, pensive and decisive, lips folded tightly, transforming into an opulent smile, his brow lightly narrowing and hands clutching at his rucksack. "Is there somewhere nearby where I can stay?"

Kurogane glanced over him critically, expression pressed into scepticism and then thought. When placed on the spot, a simple idea threw up a lot of troubling complications he'd never noticed before and he wasn't quite sure how to respond. A tiny hand pulling at his sleeve, a high voice inquiring, he's broken from his empty thoughts, directing himself to something more important and abandoning his attempts to procure an idea. There weren't many places he could think of but that wasn't the problem.

Suddenly, desperately, he lifted his watch to glance at the time, swallowing a swear as he registered the digital digits flashing agitatedly before him. He looked up again to the man waiting patiently for an answer, although looking slightly dubious, fearing there'd be no response.

"You can meet me at the shop beside the train station in one hour," Kurogane retorted in a rush, snapping almost, more resentful than kind. "I'll help you then. If you're not there then I leave."

Firmly, unshakable, he swung his daughter into his arms, took his son's hand and, without room for another word, walked away, leaving the younger foreign man standing by the crossing, confused, unsteady, uncertain…

Lifting Mio up with ease, bouncing her on his shoulders, his stone heart softens at the sound of her carefree laughter, clutching her as he takes Usui's hand. His son grew more like him with each day floating languidly by, brushing by Kurogane without a word of its passing, only glimpsing a fleeting image.

He was grateful to have them there no matter for how long, although this almost sorry acceptance sickened him, embittered him into resentment.

The clouds swallowed the sun, devouring the remains of an azure sky, and the wind began to bustle the leaves impatiently. Feeling both baseless joy and a sharpened, half-covered fury digging into his chest, he took them back to his car.

No doubt she would be standing by the door with a timer.

***

The lights changed back to red again but Fye wasn't completely sure if he wanted to cross or not anymore. He'd taken his chance but had no idea where it was going to spit him back out. Into danger? Out of danger?

Don't speak to strangers, they say, and especially not rather big and harassed ones with time to juggle. Makes sense - common sense in fact. But now he stood there, slightly confused, unable to decide where to go next. A gamble with a stranger and he'd become more lost than before.

And where's that train station…?

"_Wie gewöhnlich_," he muttered, acutely aware of an oncoming predicament and taking a step forward into the wind.

_As per usual._

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_a/n: This is a really strange fic for me to write. I had to pretty much invent a style and wasn't too sure about it for a while. Well I hope you enjoyed the first proper chapter and look forward to seeing how this all pans out!_


	3. Your watch is broken

They listened to the laughter penetrating through the walls, reverberating down the stairs and ringing sweetly in their ears. Kurogane leant back against the wall, shoes still on and staring coldly, arms crossed against his chest. Similarly his ex-wife stood slightly across from him, arms folded although with a slight slant in her stance, hips out – something that used to be becoming of her. Now she stood, hearing their children's oblivious laughter, a dangerous and dark glint to her eyes, staring into him like a stubborn mark, a rather large mistake darkening her doorway. He towered over her, waiting for her to make a move.

Finally, she pursed her lips, taking a step forward and asking, near righteously, "Do you want to stay a little while? Have a coffee?" From her lips it sounded like slander.

"No thanks, I should be going," he said inoffensively. Though she narrowed her eyes, calculating him in depth. Ha! She was the one with the problem.

They were interrupted, the ice shattering slightly, leaving them almost relieved as Usui tumbled downstairs, battering the steps in haste. He stopped just before them, bursting with childish energy as his mother forced a kind smile, lips twitching awkwardly. Two units now divided, Kurogane refuses to pretend. He'd stare his son in the face, the man and father he now is.

"Can daddy tuck us in tonight?" the little boy asked his mother, blind to tension.

Slightly immature, Kurogane felt a gleam of pride, a satisfying taste of come-uppance.

Renzu smiled slickly, bending on her knees to face his level and ruffled his hair lovingly. "Sorry, sweetie, daddy's very busy and has to go home."

Something snapped inside him, suddenly furious. That bitch, stealing his words and twisting them…

As Usui scampered off, probably to pick on his sister now he had nothing better to do, Renzu stood again, once more folding her arms, wrapping slim fingers around them, waiting for him to speak or leave.

"They could stay at my place," he suggested, frowning towards her with a potentially threatening glare, daring her to rip the rug from his feet again.

"When?" she asked sarcastically. "You don't have anywhere for them to sleep."

"There's a spare bed," he growled, taking offence.

"Last time I looked, it was lying in pieces," she retorted scathingly.

"It'll get made," he snapped defensively, "when I have time."

"That was always your problem," she seethed. "You never had time."

He frowned, raising his voice. "You damn well can't talk."

"Well I _tried_ to compromise," she said, starting out at a high volume, gradually and gently softening to her inside voice as Mio padded through, lifting a certain amount of the malice, revealing a sharp-edged silence wallowing furiously.

"Is daddy going?" she asked, almost confused, a fist half crammed in her mouth.

He picked her up, holding her tiny body tight, feeling traces of life under her skin preciously. She breathed against his chest, small, warm and connected. "See you," he told her as he set her back down, crumbling beneath. Usually emotionless yet perturbed either by anger or love.

After saying goodbye to them, he throws the door open, leaving as Renzu yells after him, "Call me when you get your watch fixed."

He glared at her as he walked away, consoled in an immortal sense of superiority, sitting a step above her petty whining and taunting.

He got halfway to the car before remembering that blonde guy at the crossing. "Shit!" he swore loudly to himself.

***

Nearly the second the man had left it had started raining. Fair enough. Fye had a hood. It wasn't very waterproof but it was practical enough to make do, scouring the streets for a sign of a train station. After a while, he stumbled across a line, lights shining blearily in the lying puddles, pummelled by a consistent and persistent shower. He followed it one way, hoping and praying that he was walking in the right direction, that he'd be led somewhere.

25 minutes.

He stopped after another 15, unsure how far he'd walked, reasoning that it was impractical.

In the end, soaked now to the skin, 47 minutes had passed since they'd parted and he stood before a station, a small shop clinging to a car-park, barely anything other than a square of tarmac.

He stood vigil, pressed against a wall and shivering slightly despite the balmy weather. Being perfectly honest, he felt like shit. No food, nothing to drink, nowhere to rest. It made sense really.

Drops of rain fell fat and lazy from strands of golden hair, slipping selfishly and crawling heavily, forebodingly along the side of his face.

The wait gave him time to think.

Was what he was doing making any semblance of sense? Depending on the generosity of one stranger, he was judging his sanity. He'd placed his trust somewhere stupid and, again, rather naïve. That much he understood but at the same time gut instinct told him to keep waiting, to stand waiting in the rain for this man to show. The promise had seemed hasty but genuine enough. A sigh of relief, a breath of hope. He wondered. Was he really that helpless?

Was this sensible? No.

Not street-savvy at all either, he knew that. He didn't care.

It took 74 minutes.

***

As he parked in front of him, that guy looked up, surprised, and smiled, smooth and teasing. Tapped his watch.

Kurogane growled. It was like the whole world was out to get him.

Irritably, he gestured for him to get in.

That wiped the smile off his face.

Only for a matter of seconds.

***

He walked over to the car, confidence in each foot-step leaking from the shoes. He noted the strange look, the suspicious glint in the corner of the man's eyes, and smiled softly, cheerily. He breathed self assured air, heart thrumming inside like the engine of the car, still on and purring beneath, a background noise shrieking impending movement, new sights, new experiences. Stepping into a stranger's car… he'd be expected to look more nervous. And yet he loves the lie he builds within himself, cherishes and nourishes it. As he opens the car door, as he sets himself down into the passenger seat, he decides more than feels to be optimistic. This life is not his own and for once, he doesn't need to care for the future.

He closes the car door - a thud, a blunt and heavy signal, sealing them together. And takes a breath.

***

The corners of his mouth perk, rising to form a perfect crescent. "So… where are you taking me?" he crooned delightedly, a playful glint in his eye.

Kurogane glanced towards him then turned away, calmly and mechanically setting the car in gear and lifting the hand brake. "My place," he replied, nonchalant.

The younger man beside him seemed to pause, stopped in his tracks in surprise. A vaguely stunned and unexpected silence drummed beneath them as Kurogane manoeuvred the car out of the parking place – tight and uncompromising, squeezed to fit modern convenience. He didn't watch his passenger's initial reaction but after a few moments the quiet crumbled around him, shredded by laughter – carefree and joyous, the plethora of sharp and sweet notes resonated freely and ironically, containing an illusion of omnipotence. It crashed against Kurogane's ears and his eyes span over to the younger, blonde man sitting next to him, his eyes narrowing to knife edge. A baseless grin plastered on his face, a loose glimmer beneath his eyes, the passenger almost sings, "We've only just met! I don't know your name!"

There was something in these statements that Kurogane mistrusted, something backhanded seeped from his voice, from the overwhelming self-certainty pouring from his skin, he could feel it in his guts, in the way the remark had slipped from his tongue – the tone sly yet of juvenile nature. The gradient of his twisting lips making a living mockery out of him. That childish outlook, dangerously un-tethered, was lacking solid grounding.

Kurogane allowed the deeper joke wallowing beneath the surface to wash over him, taking only the core meaning. "My name's Kurogane," he informed him bluntly, adamant to distance himself, the likelihood of his temper turning on them both steadily growing.

"Fye," the other responded, hands now pressed into his lap, his smile softened – a complete and new impression to match each tone within his range – expression shifting swiftly. "You know I meant a hotel?"

"I know," Kurogane said irritably.

"So why the very personal offer?" he prodded gently in an accent that lay his words too thick. He allowed them to roll over his tongue, soaking them soothingly and carefully, fleeing from naivety.

Kurogane's hands clenched the wheel. It had been a long time since he'd last spoken English, far longer since he'd studied it, the times when the vocabulary and structure had been fresh in his mind. The years falling against him and too restless to decipher this man and his accent, he shouldered his misunderstandings, choosing to just ignore that last question and opting instead to translate his own questions at every red light.

Fye didn't pressure him for an answer. He'd even seemed to tire of his game of 20 questions, relieved simply at the prospect of food and shelter. He visibly relaxed, gazing out the window, head resting in hand and watching Tokyo float by - a pulsing metropolis, mindlessly, silently shrieking, addled with anonymity, those millions of undefined footsteps, a city crippled by vertigo. Occasionally he glanced towards Kurogane, for the time being a body of confidence and control.

***

He was lulled into a false sense of security.

The man snapped at him without warning, "You don't know where you are, you don't speak Japanese and you have no money! What the hell are you doing in Tokyo?"

Fye could only stare at him, stunned and horrified, his mouth slightly agape. Fear rose within him, catching his throat as this man saw right through his skin like a glass pane, past the blood furiously rushing through his veins in panic, to his identity, cowering beneath. By the time he'd encouraged himself to smile, cracked, tense and uncertain, the man had continued, reading his expression better than his words. "How old are you?" he snapped, a suspicious glimmer, a double edged sword glinting as his eyes flickered between him and the road.

"Twenty-four," Fye lied easily, slowly easing back into his comfortable character.

The man turned his attentions back to the road and Fye felt his shoulders relax, his pulse return to normal. Assuring himself, he allowed his mouth to perk, the edges to lift. "And you?" he asked teasingly, a frightened base note still hinting underneath.

"Thirty-two," the man replied almost routinely.

He said no more, pushing back into himself, into solitude, and Fye found himself staring towards him curiously, discovering something about this man, Kurogane. When he'd first laid eyes on him, he'd felt a presence, thick, gravitational, a certain power within his motions, in the way he'd looked up to him. When he'd pulled up in the car things had changed somehow. Gone was the grouchy and overprotective father, a persona in his own right. In came a new identity, a distempered earthquake still rumbling beneath, but that impression hadn't been so heavy or so strong. Much like the car itself – nothing much, not everything, not anything. He could have been anyone, anyone with an erratic and overbearing temper.

And Fye felt his toes treading on a boundary line of sorts – that's what was terrifying him. On a high-wire, there was no room for mistakes. This man was something more than he'd originally realised and, as distanced as he made himself, he could obviously read Fye like a book, pushing past each page in distaste. And he hid it, keeping his notations, his remarks under cover, in clouded, half-baked English to release upon Fye when his cover could be easily ripped and blown off, sent billowing into the sky. But this was the strange part - Fye felt at ease with him. Despite the danger he felt himself sinking into, he felt comfortable being here.

He frowned slightly to himself, confusion settling within as he searched for the cause, taking him in, remarking each small motion. The way Kurogane's hands gripped the wheel tighter than necessary. The way he braked a little too late, a bit too hard, and the way he'd look at the rivulets of water, the rain slipping down the windscreen and glare as if it were his problem alone in the whole wide world. Sometimes he'd mutter something under his breath for only himself to hear, a solitude hovering over him, a step back from everyone else. It was difficult to define whether his mind was a furious whirlpool or a sea of calm.

This man could endanger Fye so much and still he stared into him, feeling himself sink into the seat, close to sleep, entirely at peace. He averted his gaze, slightly embarrassed in his interest.

Without knowing why, he smiled, small and thankful.

"Thank you," he told Kurogane as they came to a stop outside a building.

The man stared back at him, thrown off by this new response, these soft, uncovered words probing from somewhere close and real.


	4. Home sweet home

As the door was opened, Fye's eyebrows raised only slightly. Somehow he'd been expecting it to be a tip.

And it was – a glorious one in fact. Clothes, worn and discarded hung, tired and limp, over furniture, all over the place, arms and legs dangling. There was a dead plant on the windowsill, there was a pile of paper, actually not just paper - work, magazines, newspapers, books, catalogues, letters - towering over one half of a table. The other space he obviously inhabited was kept clear for the most part albeit the half-finished packet of mints, the bills, a pen, the lid hovering lonely at the other side. The top of the lamp was rimmed with dust, the cooker splattered, the sink full, not to mention the draining board. Half an old meal thrown sloppily down on the worktop… Fye bit his lip, sharply morphing his expression into a large smile as Kurogane glanced suspiciously down on him.

'Deal with it,' the man's expression seemed to say as he dropped his gaze, walking in an aggravated manner into his own home. It made Fye wonder how he walked usually.

"Hey, I'm grateful!" he protested, following Kurogane in and removing his shoes at the door. Grateful to peel his worn feet from these shoes too, grateful to have been given a chance to rest his weary legs in the car.

"Hungry?" Kurogane asked bluntly, as he removed his jacket, throwing it on a chair, joining a pair of jeans, another coat and a jumper.

"Yes," responded Fye immediately, regretting soon after, realising how hasty, how desperate he must have sounded.

Kurogane shot him a look, strange and unaccustomed, before he turned away, opening the fridge, gazing about lazily and indifferently at the contents, gauging severity of expiry dates, Fye presumed. He shut his thoughts off, indulging in his own sarcasm in silence.

"Where do I sleep?" he asked before his host was distracted entirely and he was left standing there to rot like everything else the man brought into the flat.

Kurogane threw a disinterested finger in the direction of the next room, as if ignoring his presence as far as possible. Fye stared towards him for a moment, slightly resentful, part bemused, kind of accepting – he was the one intruding after all.

Deciding to ignore him as well, he moved through the room, a kitchen clinging on one side, a table pressed on the other, making his way to the door.

He shouldn't really have been expecting a spare bedroom either in such a small flat. He ran his eyes over the equally mislaid, equally mixed and mulched interior of the living room cum study, carefully and dejectedly placing his bag on top of the sofa he guessed would be his bed for the next … while…

He sighed and sat on the sofa, head in hands, staring towards the dead TV, glazed over, wishing he'd stopped and planned something before he'd stepped on the plane. That would have been sensible. And he wouldn't be indebted to a stranger who could almost speak English. He wouldn't have to be living out of a bag. And he might have had a bed to sleep in.

He pressed his fingers into the sofa, yielding slightly – old and used but not uncomfortably so. He leaned back, fingers prying and testing his new bed, his eyes soaking in the images in this room, the nature of the man who lived in it, created this space and created an ever-shifting statement of his habits, splaying his character over the walls and floor, the table, the laptop in the corner on a desk, socks drying on a rack, taken in from the tiny balcony outside. The rain drizzling down the window, the clock ticking sorrowfully upon the TV; dimly the lampshade shone as he turned it on, upon the table, upon the remotes and notes, scattered lines, shapes and figures, empty beer cans glinting dully in the half light. His eyes caught sight of the children's pictures, pinned lovingly to the wall, floating like a halo over his workspace.

***

It didn't take Kurogane very long to start regretting ever inviting Fye over. He was closer than he'd imagined, intruded into his personal life more than he'd expected. Not usually a man interested in charity, he quickly grew irritated, more with himself than anything else. And the way that this guy picked up the noodles like it was some sort of trapeze act.

Their eyes caught every now and then and Fye would frown disbelievingly whenever he saw the look within Kurogane's eyes – a slowly burning glower, a message of frustration, of annoyance. He calmly slipped his attention back down to his noodles, microwaved barely within an edible range. And so far this foreign kid had no complaints. God knows what Kurogane would have done if he did, dangling over the cliff's edge before he'd even been properly introduced to him.

No, instead Fye was growing annoyed with those glances he was throwing towards him, those pissed off glares he fired across the table every time he butchered his meal. Every noodle dropped from a pair of precariously clutched chopsticks was grating on Kurogane, gritting his teeth whenever he saw him making a mess of things. Fye was clueless.

Fye succumbed, smiling politely as a form of assault. "I've never eaten like this before, Kurogane" he stated, a childish giggle beneath his tone, pointing daggers.

"Kurogane-san," he was corrected without an ounce of sympathy.

Fye's smile softened, eyes averting to shimmer agitatedly as he realised he'd never manage to penetrate this man's cold and callous collection that he called emotions. He poked around his bowl with the offending chopsticks, fed up of being treated like a criminal pleading innocent. He'd twirl the noodles around, a lop-sided and sarcastic smile alighting his face, stabbing and, now and again, trying to snap and gulp a few, messily and patiently.

Kurogane lasted a whole minute watching him – yes, now he realised that he'd been watching him – before snapping. Before standing up and ripping the chopsticks from his hands. Before throwing them down by the sink and opening a drawer with a harsh clatter, raking about for utensils. He saw the hardened blue eyes staring up to him curiously, analytically, silenced as he placed down a fork. And then the infamous smile dancing to the stage. "It's cold now, Kuro-san," he remarked in retaliation, a kind look, a soft and sympathetic expression, coupled with a cruel return, matching him in a way that he hadn't expected. Possibly worse than his ex-wife.

He made a disgruntled noise, displaying and conveying his frustration. "Do you still want to stay?" he snapped in agitation, a threatening and deep edge beneath, daring to lash into him.

Fye blinked, only slightly fazed, dropping his gaze and shaking his head.

He watched, regret pooling in his stomach as Kurogane stomped off, abandoning the remains of his meal. He pursed his lips, frowning in a tender sense of guilt as he allowed the noodles to hang from the prongs of the fork, latching and dangling pitifully.

***

The evening was a mild improvement.

Fye sat scrunched at the end of the sofa as if hanging over the edge, clinging, ears running on half power as the TV blared gibberish into them. He breathed deeply, frightened to sigh so close to the other man. Head perched in hands, he was bored witless.

He shifted slightly, staring about, eyes lacking focus as he slipped into his own thoughts. And it was in that sort of self-absorbed silence that he registered the beating of his heart - a little faster than usual. Anxiety, he thought, dismissing and closing his eyes, sensing Kurogane, a living temper, a shaken bottle of fizzed up drink, primed to blow.

As if reading his thoughts, Kurogane's stare shifted over to him, taking in his stance and his expression, the dulled tone in his eyes, the childish way he folded his legs beneath him, the challenging shape of his mouth, the way he held his lips together, more than a simple settled gaze.

Kurogane turned away, almost dismissively, walking through to the kitchen. Fye took advantage of that situation, smiling tongue-in-cheek, as he stretched his legs a little farther, invaded just that little more of Kurogane's space. By the time Kurogane came back through, two beers clutched in hand, he'd returned to his steady stare, focusing his attention on the lamp this time, fingers twirling and twiddling near uselessly.

"Do you want one?" the man asked, pushing his feet away to the other side of the sofa once he'd sat back down, resuming his position.

Fye shrugged and Kurogane threw the can over anyway, chucking it half-heartedly. Fye clicked open the can, narrowing his eyes in suspicion and tapping the aluminium with his nails in thought. Had there been a sudden change of heart?

But still, the TV threw nonsense in his face with no sign of reprise, the man channel-hopped with some sort of furious and hell-bent determination to break a mile a minute and Fye sipped near tasteless beer without much better things to do, listening to the traffic grumble agitatedly below.

It carried on like this until Fye picked up the courage to speak, eyes noting the crayon drawings once more, his fingers pressing into the malleable hollow of the metal can as he pursed his lips, thinking.

"I'm sorry for what I said," he apologised during an ad-break, looking ahead. "I'm grateful to be able to stay here." His voice dropped in a soft tone of regret and thankfulness.

"It's alright," Kurogane replied, beer can near lips, expression part-bemused at the sudden apology. He chased that uncertainty away, shutting his eyes and tipping the can back. "I was no better. I have no patience."

Fye couldn't help but smile at this, the understatement of the century, trying to contain his laughter.

"What?" the man snapped, thankfully taking a joke.

"Nothing," Fye said, a grin escaping as he shook his head. "I have no manners."

"No what?" the man growled in confusion this time, not recognising the word.

This time Fye laughed lightly, shaking his head quickly, strongly, sending locks of sheer blonde hair dancing about his face.

Kurogane grimaced now, returning to his beer, but not long after his gaze had resettled towards the TV screen, he found himself facing Fye again, a questioning expression within the way he looked towards him, the way his eyes picked at him, part analytical and part amused. "Where are you from?" he asked.

"Hamburg, North Germany," Fye blurted out with a self-knowing smile. It was only after he said it that his heart caught on a wire, snagging – he'd forgotten to lie.

"Hamburg," Kurogane repeated curiously, although his accent morphed it, changing Fye's cosy little home into a Japanese fascination – h-AM-boorg-oh. Fye smiled, put at ease by the reaction, tilting his head, feeling a new, warmer atmosphere sweep through the room, taking every object with it, a tide billowing them slightly.

"Have you always lived in Tokyo?" he asked kindly and politely, taking a new interest in his host.

He shook his head. "When I was a child, I stayed in the countryside. I came here as a student and now I live here."

"I'm the same," Fye beamed. "I was brought up in a small town near Hamburg and then moved there to study." He sighed fondly in reflection. "It was quite peaceful there."

"Well, it's not here," Kurogane snapped, voice taking its usual grouchy bass notes, grumbling beneath, although his tone spoke kindly. He frowned as he held his beer can as if uncertain why he was carrying on, what could have suddenly possessed him to become more talkative. "Are you still a student?"

"I just finished," Fye said with a quaint smile, a charmed look in his eyes, doing quick calculations in his head to ensure his story was plausible.

The man beside him nodded in merely vague interest, finishing the last of his beer and bringing his attention back to the TV. Drama, action… he turned it off, crushing the can in his fist, unsympathetic and bored into habit, before resignedly dropping it in the bin placed conveniently by his side. He stood up and made his way into what Fye presumed was his bedroom without another glance. Fye nearly pouted. Just one little, polite, friendly glance…?

He flopped down on the sofa dejectedly, mind numbed in boredom, a lack of things to think through now he'd deliberately, determinedly blanked his memory. The sofa was slightly warm now with their overstayed presence, the smell of beer caught floating in the air, the forgotten souls of many other cans whispering to him as he lay his head down. He frowned, thinking about the future rather than the past.

A door shut behind his head and he looked up to face Kurogane standing, only half caring, arms crossed before him, now changed and narrowing his eyes – an overbearing and near contemptuous air within. "I get up at seven," he says, "I shower at quarter past seven, I eat at half past seven and I leave at quarter to eight. Understand?"

Fye nodded, saluting just to irk him.

"Tch," Kurogane muttered, grimacing and retreating back to his bedroom with a curt, "Good-night."

Fye sat back up on his sofa, pausing for a moment in the strange half-living light, seeping in the window, sucking at the furniture and carpet. He watched it suspiciously before reaching for his bag, rummaging about for clothes to sleep in.

He jumped as the door opened again, the man not even making eye-contact as he threw a sheet on to the sofa. Half-missing, the sheet clung to the arm desperately as the rest of its meagre body pooled dejectedly on the floor. The door shut promptly.

"Thank you," Fye called after him with a frown, knowing full well he might as well have been trying to make conversation with the closed door in front of him. He found himself wondering if the door would have been more willing to talk to him, have more interesting things to say. Right now he only had one other voice in his life and it was rather unsociable.

He sighed, making his way to the bathroom, changing, brushing his teeth before settling down in his miniature new home – a sofa, a coffee table and an intrusive window, a cheap, thin pair of curtains half-heartedly shielding the view, solemnly hanging their weight. Picking the sheet up from the floor, he kicked about a few pillows, set his bag out of the way and laid his head down to sleep, begging for a new day, a new life, a new beginning.

* * *

_a/n: Kuro-tan is grumpy, ne? Don't worry, Fye will sort everything out ;)  
Please review if you like what you see or even if you don't!_


	5. Continental' breakfast

His eyes remained peeled open, absorbing the strange flat, his mind screaming at him to rest, to close his eyes and allow himself to drift away, floating once more to somewhere he couldn't recognise. However he couldn't allow himself to. His shoulders were tensed, a frankly bizarre light sipping upon his flesh, lying lazily against his skin. Strange and unfamiliar smells held themselves tight within his nose and his mouth, forcing himself to believe himself a stranger, a different identity kicking about in the dark. He supposed he was.

That and his body clock was fucked, _kaput_.

He flipped his body over, facing the back of the sofa, stomach sinking into frustration.

And still, he refused to seep into himself, drawing breaths too anxious, the silence suffocating him. He shut his eyes tight, clenching fists about his frayed and fragile duvet, pushing himself down in agitation and fear and trying to break past that otherworldly border.

But he didn't cry as his throat caught, sensing this new boundary, desperately catching his balance over a perilous edge, spying Japan below, an irritable guy, strong and resentful, his only saving grace, standing disinterestedly by. Was he waiting for him to plummet to his death or did he have a heart?

Yes, Fye could close his eyes and feel it beating, hear it, smell the warm blood flying through his body.

Maybe he did sleep.

He awoke, a frown upon his face, his eyes like lead, an even stranger light glaring spitefully into them.

So as he swung his feet out of 'bed', he set his expression into one of focus.

***

The Japanese man was surprised. He left the bathroom, a door conveniently attached to his bedroom, changed and passed through to the living room to find the sofa lacking a body lying upon it, the sheet folded neatly at the end, pressed and straightened politely, almost proudly. And noises came from the kitchen, a clatter of plates. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together…

"Good morning," Fye simply glowed towards him, holding two plates and beaming a smile so bright it was painful to behold.

An expression of confusion upon his face, Kurogane replied only partially certain, "Good morning." He sat down in his seat, more accustomed to shovelling something only half-cooked down his throat as he threw himself down the stairs to his car. As Fye placed a plate down in front of him, he said, in his much more familiar and suited grouchy tone, "You didn't have to do this."

"But I did," Fye said, a freakishly pleasant early morning grin upon his face, as he placed himself daintily on the seat opposite, gracefully pushing away an accumulation of junk to the side as he set down his plate. His smile suddenly dropped, his expression shifting to slight fear. "Do you like eggs?"

Kurogane glanced down to his plate, face contorting in slight disappointment and distaste, but then finding nothing to complain about. Just the dish was markedly European is all – sloppy and greasy – two eggs staring at him, gleaming like the morning sun. Accompanied by some toast – god knows where he found the bread – its ears sliced like Van Gogh, a bit more of a mess than art but a kind gesture nonetheless.

"I didn't know how to cook anything else," the German kid said apologetically, slicing into his own breakfast. "And I didn't know how you like your eggs… to be cooked," he stopped, glancing up to the ceiling, considering his own grammar before hammering on with his high-speed, well-mannered, in-good humour apology, "or if you like eggs. Or what you eat for breakfast usually." He looked up to him with a surprisingly cheery air, as if expecting an answer, as if to say that he didn't mind if Kurogane just picked the plate up and threw it out the window right there and then.

"It's fine," he shrugged, unsure how he was going to go about eating it with his regular chopsticks, besides poking at it a bit in confusion like he was waiting to see if it would jump obediently into his mouth.

Fye's mouth tweaked in slight amusement, passing him some of the European cutlery he'd dug from the deep depths of his drawers, jammed, untouched by human hands, shunned and abused.

He continued speaking, expressively waving about his hands, scrunching up his face from time to time. "And I found bread but it had er…" Fye waved his hand about, twirling his fork like a windmill as he scoured his brains for the English word. Eventually he had to sigh and concede defeat. "_Schimmel_," he stated firmly, returning to his meal as if pretending it would make sense to Kurogane.

He stared at him questioningly.

So much so that as Fye raised his eyes he caught that look and nearly became trapped in it, shrugging and lowering his attention back down to breakfast in escape, taking apart his equally dismembered piece of toast with his fork. Well, he'd had to tear bits off. At least it was the only the corners that had gone mouldy, otherwise he'd have had no idea what to do.

But as much as he tried to avoid eye contact, he felt his eyes being yanked up, catching sight of the man hacking apart his already sorry state of a meal. Beyond his control, he smirked as the tables turned. And received a glare in payment. He smiled pleasantly, sweetly, and returned to his meal, to his first morning in Japan.

***  
"Thanks," Kurogane said grudgingly, adjusting a tie, donning a plain jacket.

Fye smiled, conjuring a prize-winning glow as he put the dishes by the sink. "You're welcome!"

"I'm going to work," Kurogane muttered, stating the obvious after scribbling down his number on a spare note, just in case. He glanced towards Fye, once again quite unaccustomed and lacking guidance. "Do you want to stay here this afternoon?"

Catching his meaning, Fye added an extra knowing perk to his smile. "I'm fine here," he sang cheerily.

Kurogane raised an eyebrow, his regular attitude shifting back into gear. "Just don't take anything," he snapped in mistrust.

"I wouldn't dare, Kuro-san," Fye uttered coyly, eyes blinking innocently yet smile hinted with a devilish taint – another joke at his expense.

"Kurogane-san!" the man corrected him loudly before slamming the door, knocking the poor hinges out of their senses.

"Goodbye, Kuro-…" Fye stopped mid-taunt, his smile drooping to an expression of horror as the lock clicked into place, sounding rather mockingly.

Really, he should have been expecting that.

The man only had one key after all.

He dropped his dishtowel, groaning in annoyance, gritting his teeth together.

Trapped.

He sighed. Should've known… last time he was ever going to trust a stranger. Then again he shouldn't have been so silly to do that right in the first place.

With a few more ounces of hope than was healthy, he tried the door for maybe … a couple of minutes, pressing against it, toying with the handle. It didn't budge an inch. In the end he wasn't even sure why he wanted out – it was like a labyrinth out there, a shouting, shrieking labyrinth filled with potential landmines. Still, he had maybe 10x10m of free space in this flat at best, most of it scattered with a varied assortment of crap, jingling, pointed, square, breakable or otherwise, and his only sources of light and fresh air were a few rather smudged and neglected windows, more like a death bed for potted plants than a source of natural light.

He bit his lip, accepting his allotted (not to mention free) accommodation now with nearly open arms, shuffling grimly back to the sink and the tiny pile of dishes begging for attendance.

***

The Japanese man was surprised again. He'd taken two steps into his flat and his right foot hadn't hit that cardboard box like it should have, his left hadn't kicked or skimmed some bits of ripped appliances, piles of abandoned letters…

"Good afternoon," a voice came from the other room, slinking into his ear and sounding in annoyance.

He quickly glanced up to see Fye leaning against the doorway, duster in hand. The guy smirked in self-satisfaction, raising his hand to gesture. "What do you think?"

What did Kurogane think?

It was barely the same place anymore.

His table had been cleared completely. Every little thing lying on, staining or even covering it was gone, lifted and thrown away to another place entirely. His eyes followed over to the work tops – equally bare, just as impeccably tidied and scrubbed, to the extent that any marks, stains or pieces of food had been removed and vanquished entirely either through chemicals or sheer elbow grease. The sink sparkled, attacked furiously with an array of products, left gleaming majestically, near haughty. The floor had been cleared and cleaned with some kind of senseless grit and determination, not even merely hoovered but scrubbed in some parts, every stain and blemish wiped clean, and lifted. There wasn't a single piece of crap in sight – food, junk, worn clothes, whatever … gone. His quaint little pile of used dishes had vanished too, the accumulation of take-out boxes binned, his dead plants had been thrown out and every single corner had been wiped to a glowing shine, breathing splendidly, a new lease of life in a sense.

Fye hovered over the pristine, scrubbed, polished and straightened room with an air of achievement, lips lying near smugly, his fingers sitting primly against his young, thin arms as he folded them.

"It's neat," Kurogane found himself stuttering after a period of stunned silence, gazing about his transformed abode. He then turned sharply towards Fye. "Why?" he asked demandingly.

Fye closed his eyes and his face transformed, features sitting kindly and peacefully. He sauntered forward, a spring in his step, saying, "It's my way of saying thank you."

"You already said thank you… twice," Kurogane snapped, eyes spinning about his kitchen, part of him frustrated at the invasion of his home, of his private space. Still, he couldn't prevent the other part of himself being somehow pleased.

"I know," Fye said and then turned to ignore his comment completely. "I only had time to clean this room today," he told Kurogane, hinting that his work wasn't done here yet.

Kurogane stopped, snapping them from this damn continual cycle of apology and thanks, facing Fye and grunting, "So where's my stuff?"

Fye's eyes glinted, his lips pursed with the edges still lifted, spying an impending sore-point and receding into himself, into safety. "Either in the bin or put away."

Kurogane practically threw his bag and jacket down on to the table, dropping them with a misplaced sense of disproportional rage, turning towards him and yelling fiercely, "You-!" before stopping, breaking off from what had the makings of a magnificently furious rant as he stared towards Fye. Partly because he lacked the vocabulary but then it may have also been because he'd been interrupted by Fye's laughter.

"It's alright, Kuro-chan! It was nothing important!" the blonde almost giggled, amused by the predictability of his reaction. He smiled a joyous grin, leaning back, a curved spine, a mischievous glimmer in his eye.

Kurogane felt his fists tighten and his insides boil. "What did you call me?" he seethed but was interrupted, caught off-guard.

While he was still vaguely startled by the state of his home, Fye snatched at the opportunity with both hands, grabbing his arm and yanking it as he dragged him through into the other room, a cheerful smirk upon his face. "I left the rest for you," he explained, almost in song, gesturing towards the pile of useless rubbish in corner. "Do as you like," Fye declared with a dramatic flourish.

Kurogane's brow creased into a frown, unsure how to deal with this new development … or even how to react.

Fye prodded him in the ribs, jesting. "Happy?" he enquired, a kind-hearted attitude and a stubborn nature lying beneath.

"I guess," Kurogane replied, anger now beginning to abate. Besides, he couldn't figure out what exactly he was angry about.

"Good," Fye stated with a firm nod of the head, as if no other answer could have done.

And as Kurogane turned to look at him curiously, questioningly, as Fye sat upon his throne, the lack-lustre sofa he now called home, he took in the way he crossed his legs with a certain, upheld manner, the way his eyes would slink over to meet his own defiantly and challengingly. His sweet, childish smile… this kid had a strange ego. And Kurogane gritted his teeth as he realised that he'd never be able to argue with it and win. But still, it wouldn't hurt to bash his some sense into his skull, knock him down a few pegs…

"Don't touch my stuff again," he snapped irritably, stomping into his room to change.

"Okay, Kuro-rin!" Fye pitched melodically, grinning like a man demented.

"And stop that!" Kurogane ordered as he slammed the door to his room with an infuriated bang.

***

At first Fye hadn't intended to do it. In fact, he spent the first half-hour pacing about the flat with a temper, cursing that ill-tempered bastard.

He turned on the TV, finding himself even more confused and irritated by that gap in comprehension, another world that barely made sense to him. He shut it off. Only to leave himself the prey of silence, crawling and slithering about him. And as he tried to shake it off, he spied the computer. Discovering it required a password, he hit against a brick wall, spinning in the office chair in despondence. That was when his eyes graced the children's pictures once more, taking in the innocence in their crayon drawings, the sweet-hearted hope and happiness beneath their little scribbles, their love for their father and the love he hoped to return.

Fye bit his lip, suddenly feeling guilty. He stood up, turning away. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. And his heart pained as he glanced about this state of a flat, feeling that he had perhaps been too quick to judge.

He raided a cupboard, grabbing cleaning products, old rags, finding the hoover…

He gritted his teeth, biting back emotion and sentimentality as he scrubbed the stains from the worktop. It was true after all – he was too kind for his own damn good.

* * *

_a/n: Hope you enjoyed it! If you review then I will have no choice but to love you because I'm grateful you took the time to send one … and read this in the first place. Also if you've been to Japan and know what they're likely to keep in their fridges then please keep me right, I was clinging on to minimum knowledge and novels up there!_


	6. Something called generosity

Just this one night, Kurogane decided to forget about his nightly routine, his dinner, late-night TV and beer, instead turning to bed and reading a book before hitting the sack. His guest was fast asleep on the sofa, dead to the world. He'd come through, an almost caring taint to his lips as he stared down on to the German kid, passed out on the sofa, dead to the world. Silently, he'd left him in peace, throwing the duvet over his still-clothed body, and leaving, shutting the door gently behind him. He'd felt like he'd gone soft all of a sudden.

But he felt a pang of gratitude within himself, a glimmer of acceptance. And a smattering of guilt – he'd wait until the entire flat was clean before kicking him out. That was the logical option. After all, he couldn't hang on to him forever and he couldn't continue giving in his personal time, his private space and money to some foreign kid who couldn't even speak his language. A few more days and he'd decide what to do with him. Who knows, he may even be gone, sprouting his own damn wings and leaving to go bother someone else at their doorstep.

For the time being, he'd watch him, pressing him under his thumb, a personal cleaner and a refreshing change of company maybe.

***

Even with nothing between them, he set his alarm to drone a bit earlier than habit, an interruption to his morning routine as he fiddled with the numbers and settings.

Fye was still sprawled exhausted across the sofa, sheet lain oddly and impersonally over his body. He blinked as Kurogane opened the door, yawning and adjusting his eyes to the new and early light. He passed Kurogane a glance as he strolled through into the kitchen, fully dressed, fully awake, perhaps not as bright and cheery as Fye had been the day before, perhaps more talk-to-me-and-I'll-smash-your-face-sky-high but Fye still watched, slightly enthused by his appearance.

Mumbling and half-awake, he scrambled for a clock, finding one after digging in his bag for any device that might display the time, slumping back onto his sofa/bed and then gasping lightly at the time, eyes widening only to shut again, pressing himself back into his pillows – so soft and welcoming and just the way he'd wanted them.

"Are you going to get up or are you going to stay there all day?" a voice called to him irritably, bowls and glasses clanging disruptively, everything in disarray in the kitchen.

"_Noch ein Minuten_," Fye groaned sleepily, shifting to get comfortable again.  
_One more minute._

"What?" Kurogane yelled impatiently.

Fye scrunched up his eyes. His voice was so loud. It punched into his ear drums like a sledge-hammer to concrete. Consigning himself to the inevitable, just not as warm or as comfortable as before, he eased himself wearily out of bed, responding, "Nothing!"

Given time to shower and dress, clutching his own towel in his arms on the way to the bathroom, he entered with half a conscious self and emerged glowing, blonde hair gleaming nearly as brightly as his smile, a punch-line statement, as he slinked around the door into the kitchen.

"Kuro-rin," he chimed as he leaned against the worktop, draping his arms over the counter-top and drawing his body elegantly around it, gracefully yet invasively positioned as he peered towards him, "what are you making?"

"Breakfast," Kurogane replied, gritting his teeth, his patience trying. "And stop calling me that," he grunted, narrowing his eyes to glare at him threateningly, as if to say 'one more mistake like that and this gets embedded in your skull'.

"But it's fun!" Fye chirruped delightedly, pressing even further forward, a Cheshire-cat grin seamlessly lighting his face. "And Kuro-rin sounds a lot cuter, right?"

"It shouldn't be cute," he snapped, gripping a pair of chopsticks like they were some sort of deadly weapon, or rather torture devices. It was a pleasant image.

"You don't like it?" Fye whined in mock disappointment.

"_Sure as hell, I don't,"_ he muttered in Japanese, making sure to convey his anger in the way he handled the dishes, slamming them down, throwing rice about, getting bits of food over the worktop Fye had just cleaned…

"That's rude," Fye huffed, poking him in the arm dejectedly. "You know that you don't have manners either, Kuro-chan."

His patience snapped and crumbled. He slammed the chopsticks down, creating a curiously violent rattling noise, and turned to Fye, a fire burning in his eyes. He snatched his shoulders, spun him around and started marching him forcibly towards the door, fed up with everything to do with this stranger.

And to begin with, Fye was laughing, a world devoid of threat through his eyes, tinted in a strangely beleaguering and bright shade of happy-go-lucky. He light-heartedly pitched, "Kuro-chan, let me go!" And then he noticed how focused his grip was… and that furious look on his face… "Please!" he added innocently and worriedly.

It was only as Kurogane tried to pull open the door that he began to struggle against him, pushing back, heart hammering as he realised his cruel intent, that this wasn't really just a joke and he did in all seriousness plan to kick him out at least for the time being. "_Ich habe nur Spaß gemacht!_" he cried in annoyance as he gripped the edges of the doorframe and leaned back, desperately trying to stop him from physically grabbing him and throwing him out into the corridor.  
_I was only joking!_

Still, Kurogane's temper hadn't died down a single bit and he found himself grappling with Fye, feeling like he was wrestling with a fish making back for the water as he stretched for the door handle, listening to him shrieking, "_Können Sie kein Spaß verstehen?_" in a panicky tone, trying to pull Kurogane's arms off him, now clutching him a tight hold, prepared at any moment to fling him through the open door, to sweep him off his feet, drop him outside, slam the door and be done with it.  
_Can't you take a joke?_

It didn't quite work out like that.

_***_

_Thud! _

The neighbours downstairs passed each other a curious glance as they heard the incredibly loud and almost comedic crash against their ceiling, each wondering what the hell could be going on up there…

***

Two apologies and an ice-pack later, they sat across from each other, eating breakfast together as pleasantly as could be possible in the awkward atmosphere, Fye poking gingerly at his rice and glancing up every now and again towards Kurogane who was still passing him the odd embittered glare.

"How do you know those names?" Kurogane asked with a mouth half-full of food, his back still sore where he'd landed on the ground.

Fye smiled towards him politely, speaking in a kind and friendly tone, still apologetic. "I like to read manga," he explained.

"In German?" Kurogane asked him, a dubious frown creasing his face.

"English is easier," Fye replied, tucking curiously into his breakfast.

"Is that why you're here?" Kurogane asked plainly, seeming somehow totally disinterested and dismissive despite the question.

Fye nodded as he ate, a large smiling growing on his face. "I've always wanted to go to Japan," he said. Kurogane noted the way he said 'Japan' slightly strangely, his voice moulding it into a much softer sound, reforming it into a sweet little dream, the sound verging on 'Yapan'.

Kurogane finished his breakfast and got up, dumping his bowl and chopsticks carelessly in the sink and donning his tie and jacket.

"Is it alright?" Fye asked sincerely, pointing towards his own head, indicating the area where Kurogane had finely whacked his head off the ground just before Fye had come flying down and landed in a heap on top on him and just after he'd elbowed him firmly in the ribs and then hadn't stopped pushing back against him as he lost his footing… causing the rather large dent in the floor.

"It's fine," Kurogane responded hastily. Actually it was still throbbing but he'd just have to live with it. "Your lunch is there," he said, pointing an embarrassed finger towards the space of worktop below the window, a horrible fear churning within him that he may be perceived as caring after all.

Fye raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Thank you," he said graciously, pitch slightly raised. He then frowned questioningly. "Hey, Kurogane…"

"Kurogane-san," he was corrected by the pressed and rushed man in question, lingering about the door impatiently.

"Kurogane-san," he said again, eyes wandering and tone sitting stiffly against the question in his voice, "what is this?" He gestured towards his bowl, the glistening contents lying slickly within, not at all meaning to be rude just … interested.

"_Tamago kake gohan_" Kurogane replied gruffly.

"And what's that?" Fye asked curiously, a slight hint of fear skimming his voice.

"Rice, egg and soy sauce," Kurogane explained, fist held tightly around the door handle, anxious to leave and arrive on time.

"How is the egg cooked?" Fye asked, worriedly poking about his bowl.

"It's not," Kurogane revealed to him agitatedly, briefly catching his reaction, his face dropped in absolute, utter horror before slamming the door shut, locking it and making his way to his car.

***

It made Fye feel silly and picky to spit it out into the sink but just the thought made him feel physically sick. In fact the mere idea… he shuddered and scraped the rest out of his bowl, trying to put himself off thinking about it and occasionally gagging as he opened the cupboard in search of his cleaning arsenal once more…

***

It was something that confused Fye's brother when he came back and told him his story.

"So you went all the way to Japan, stayed there for ages, found yourself a Japanese boyfriend…"

"Love interest," Fye corrected him firmly, tired of this joke.

"Love interest, sorry," his brother sighed sarcastically, "… and you can't eat raw food?"

Fye nodded, a humorous smirk gracing his face as he sipped at his coffee.

His brother laughed, free and whole-hearted, exclaiming, "That's crazy!"

"Yeah, pretty much," Fye laughed as well, feeling a certain warmth as the memories seeped slowly back into mind.

***

Kurogane arrived home, a little harassed, a bit haggard.

He dumped a shopping bag on the table, made his way through to the living room, inspecting the state of the room, impeccably clean and tidy, and glancing towards Fye perched on his sofa. He beamed warmly in greeting.

"_Okaeri-nasai_," he nearly sang, hands pressed into lap and a sweet tune in his voice.  
_Welcome home._

"Hey," Kurogane replied disinterestedly, practically bored as he collapsed on the sofa beside him, spreading his arms and closing his eyes as he exhaled heavily and solemnly, completely beat.

"Are you having a hard day?" Fye asked. As Kurogane opened his eyes and turned his head, he saw the blonde leaning against the sofa, arms folded and facing towards him with a look of quiet concern on his face.

He frowned, catching the blear of the TV on in the background. "Can you understand that?" he asked curiously, slightly bemused.

Fye shook his head moving to press the side of his face softly into the back of the sofa, his blonde locks curling and pressing daintily against his face.

"So… why?" Kurogane asked, tired and half-arsed.

Fye smiled slightly and shrugged, his lips pressed lightly together, without any true expression. "I was bored," he eventually sighed.

Kurogane stared at him for a moment, taking in his weary expression, sick at heart, and then pushed himself up, wandering over to his computer and turning it on, spinning slightly in the swivel chair and watching the TV in an atmosphere of tired resignation. He glanced about his living room, now tidy, spick and span. There was a breath of fresh air about the place in fact, something a bit more welcoming than before. The way all his stuff had been shoved into one convenient pile, clearing the rest of the room and leaving it in a state of cleansing enhancement as a result – clean lines and light colours, tidied and brushed, dusted and polished.

He tapped a few things into his computer, disabling the password and motioned for Fye to come over. As he hovered about his shoulder, he instructed him on how to switch the keyboard from one language to another, how to finally access the internet.

"Thank you," Fye said lightly, smiling genuinely, eyes sparkling slightly and kind of touched. It didn't take much really but it was certainly a lot for this grouch.

Kurogane grunted in a way that Fye supposed meant 'No problem' and slouched through to the kitchen as Fye slipped into the office chair, fingers finally hitting keys after so long separated from a screen.

He absorbed the German text flickering in pixels with a fulfilled sigh, drinking in the native tongue floating before him.

***

Ten minutes later, almost as if he were responding to a warning bell clanging on sight of imminent culinary disaster, Fye came bumbling through, cutting Kurogane off from his pots and pans, crying, "Kuro-chan! That's not how to cook pasta!"

He took over completely, hands automatically reaching, grabbing, stirring while he babbled away and somehow kept his head controlling the two bubbling, boiling, frothing pots in front of him and the one bubbling, boiling, frothing man clutching at his neck, attempting homicide every time a nickname burst through his high-speed stream of chat. Fye laughed, brushing off his hands playfully as he tested the firmness of the spaghetti, dangling dangerously over the seething, spitting water on a pair of precariously clutched chopsticks.

And when he was satisfied, he lifted a spoonful of sauce up to Kurogane's lips and he felt so tantalisingly tempted to launch forward and throttle the guy asking joyously, a slight trill in his voice, "How does it taste, Kuro-tan?" But those blue eyes stared defiantly, a silent challenge that Kurogane came to realise he couldn't refuse, no matter the predicament… which maybe lacked sanity but it was a matter of pride, a case of upholding his manhood in a sense. Strange thing considering he was now being spoon fed by a bewilderingly enthusiastic, demented German guy, almost a decade his junior.

He turned away, pacing about, practically in a huff.

Fye laughed again, sky-high, with a miniature melody and a sharp wink. "Is it that good?"

As Kurogane left the room, a petty excuse as an alibi, Fye felt his lips twisting whimsically and knowingly. I'll take that as a yes…

* * *

_a/n: I apologise for attempting humour, it never comes out right so all criticism positive and negative is much appreciated, helps me know if my door shoving scenes work or not =) Also if you spot a mistake in my German or some way to make it more natural then feel free to point it out, my German ain't what it used to be. Oh and thanks to the wonder of Wikipedia for the Japanese breakfast idea!_


	7. One week later

A week flew by, full of bustle, keeping quiet, a finger pressed to its lips. Kurogane passed in and out the door, bringing shopping, sloppy take-out and a temperamental storm-cloud … you know, the one that always seemed to hover about his head, the wind kicking up all of Fye's hard work, whirling it about the room, messing it up again. He sighed. This wasn't what he had in mind when he said he wanted to come to Japan but he'd take it. It was difficult to tell if there would be people looking for him, or if anyone even knew he was in the country at all. He'd moved so quickly, he supposed it would be difficult to find clues. That was the whole point after all. And that was how he'd gotten into this mess.

But he was content how he was – a little company, a computer to himself and a spot of cleaning with the radio on. Life was easy in that respect and yet mind-bogglingly complex when he thought about how it all tied together.

They sat eating noodles in front of a film – English with Japanese subs Fye forced Kurogane to take off once he'd realised it was giving him an extra advantage. With only half an idea of the events, they spent the majority of that time in front of the warmly glowing screen, talking only vaguely about themselves, the places they'd been, the things they'd seen…

"How long are you staying here?" Kurogane asked, a questioning frown on his face and punching Fye sharply on the upper arm as his eyes flicked away, turning back to the screen in a lame attempt to avoid the question.

"Here?" he asked, blinking innocently as he rubbed his arm. "In Japan?"

"Yes," Kurogane said through gritted teeth, irritated with Fye's constant blasé attitude, placated by his sincerity and cleaning skills.

Fye's eyes smoothly looked down, falling upon his crossed legs and suddenly sitting that bit more stiffly. "I don't know," he breathed.

"You can't stay here forever," Kurogane said firmly and unsympathetically, letting Fye know who was in charge and who couldn't afford to piss about with his time, money or patience.

"I understand," Fye said, a weak tone to his voice, so fragile you could snap it clean in two, that Kurogane suddenly realised he hadn't heard in him yet and had never expected to. He looked across to him, noting an almost upset expression, downhearted as Fye stared towards the TV, his eyes disconnected with a sad glimmer twinkling at the back… Kurogane almost pitied him.

"Where will you go?" he asked gruffly instead, turning his attentions back to the beer in his hand.

Fye smirked and his eyes lit up once more. "Maybe I could clean homes for money," he said, voice slipping sarcastically but in good-humour. "Or maybe I could become a criminal, sleep in train stations and travel around Japan."

Kurogane laughed, vaguely amused, a selfish chortle. "The second sounds more exciting," he said, his English having dramatically improved after a week forced into the language.

"Would you come with me?" Fye asked, voice running smoothly, so seamless that it was difficult to tell whether he was joking or being deadly serious, hinting at some sort of deep, new emotion that Kurogane really had no idea was forming between them.

"Tch," Kurogane muttered, turning away with a look of dismissal, "I wouldn't share the money."

Fye smiled humorously, an edge of contentment at the corners. "You're too selfish, I'll have to be lonely," he drawled through the thick evening, pressing down heavily, his accent punching through the darkness, swirling around in Kurogane's ear. He noted it with warm welcome.

In fact, now that he had Fye to talk to once he came home, the realisation was slowly becoming clearer in his mind, feeling a strange sense of surprise as he saw how lonely he used to be. He could have gotten a pet, found a girlfriend but he simply didn't have the time, the patience or the space and Fye was pretty self-sufficient, resilient to intolerant abuse to a certain extent. Most importantly, he was someone new to talk to, an interesting new change to his life and someone completely unrelated to his previous life or his run-of-the-mill existence. True, the nicknames made him feel like shooting him or punching him in the face but he felt it was a small price to pay for some organisation about the place.

***

The next morning, after a demonstration of the washing machine, Fye calling Kurogane plaintively as he fiddled with buttons, washing powder in hand, Kurogane prepared to leave to see his children, a refreshing change in his weekly routine. And he supposed it could be Fye's day off too – let the kid get some fresh air or something before he was technically imprisoning him.

He pressed a smudged and crumpled 3000¥ in his hand, ushering him from the building and then relenting to some begging to drop him off nearer to the centre where he kicked him out, slamming the door and driving off in haste after hurriedly snapping something about a pick-up point.

Fye blinked in confusion, practically picking himself up off the ground, dusting down his trousers and watching him rush off. He turned around, saw the people, the eye-wateringly interesting sights and shops, signs blazing, traffic screeching and assaulting his ear drums; right in the thick of things. He gave a small and grateful smirk as he made off, heading for the throng with a tiny skip in his step, away to explore.

***

"So what's wrong with them coming over, the flat's clean now!" he protested, an aggravated and blunt edge hissing in exasperation.

Renzu simply raised her eyebrow, mockingly, scathingly. "I've never seen you clean before in my life!"

His eyes narrowed dangerously, revealing a smouldering pit. "So what makes you think I can't?"

She smirked with a sense of haughty self-satisfaction. "I don't know, you're always too busy to scrape your rubbish off the floor." She raised her hands sarcastically then turned away, walking back into the kitchen, dusting the matter off her pristine hands.

He wasn't done yet. Gritting his teeth, he stomped through after her, causing a miniature earthquake and bashing holes in the floor as he followed her, yelling, "So what gives you so much time? What happened to that pile of work you always had? You used to love it so much you'd never shut up about it."

Her hands crashed on to the table slightly harder than necessary. "That went away once you left and I finally had some air!" She whipped around, eyes catching him and pinning him bitterly to the wall, mouth set in fury. It was as if she really expected him of all people to back off.

"And maybe once I was away from you, I was able to clean again," he snapped fiercely, snatching her words and throwing them aside.

"I bet," she snarled loathingly. "But thank you," she threw at him, changing her image to cheerful in a heartbeat like a slap in the face, "they seemed to enjoy themselves today."

"That's because I pay them attention," he snarled, forcing himself heavily out of the room before she really did slap him, searching for some innocent children to use as a shield and to say goodbye to, to savour his short expanse of time together with them. Their little eyes always glowed so lovingly whenever they fell upon him.

***

He scraped to a halt, car jolting as he pressed firmly on the brake twenty minutes late and looked round to see Fye sitting on his bench. His eyes raised and he smiled, tapped his watch.

Kurogane growled.

Although this time he had to say, the kid was much sharper. As he opened the door to the car and slipped his legs in, he glanced towards Kurogane slightly warily, looking over him and, for once, judging the distance to the line, that strange boundary he always made a game of pushing over.

As Kurogane set the car in gear aggressively, eyes burning belligerently and mouth set, it was almost as if he'd calculated his probabilities of living as very slim if he even breathed a word. So he didn't play games with him, although that didn't stop him from talking, from wittering on optimistically, 'always look on the bright side of life' and all that jazz.

"Are you alright?" he first asked him gently, a playful streak still slipping off his tongue and physically restraining himself from voicing a nickname.

"I'm fine," Kurogane snapped, forcing the car in and out of gear, crushing the stick beneath his hand, fiercely gripped.

"You're not," Fye said, his tone now dropped, a serious edge gracing his face. "You're angry."

Kurogane's eyes span over to face his own, punching holes in him, although Fye proved surprisingly resilient, his lips lying sternly, a formed shape to his mouth and a glint in his eyes. "And?" Kurogane finally grunted as he averted his attention back to the road, a frown pressed into his forehead.

"And … that's not alright…" Fye said, unable to explain, laughter in his throat. His gaze drifted down, softly gazing at the car's interior. "When I met you, you seemed very happy to be able to see your children. An hour later you were angry," he struggled to clarify, animating his words using his hands, almost like juggling, struggling against his own vocabulary.

"So?" grunted Kurogane into his teeth, his muscles now beginning to feel strange tensed as he calmed yet still unable to halt the flow of blood furiously coursing through veins.

"So…" Fye laughed at the obvious answer, a carefree hint, the world a beautiful glimmer in his eye, "why be angry?" His eyes slinked over, the corners of his mouth perking. "Unless it's me."

"Is it a problem?" Kurogane bluntly threw at him in aggravation. The last thing he felt like doing right then was explaining himself to a blonde airhead.

Fye's eyes narrowed, staring at him analytically, and then, his eyebrows raised, he closed his eyes, head in hands with his elbow against the door. He smiled with a taint of humour. "Do you really love them?" he asked softly, almost probingly as his tone hit personal levels, gently sinking into Kurogane's skin.

He almost jolted at the intrusion. "Obviously!" he spat, feeling unnatural. If he'd said it in his first language it probably would have contained a few swears, making this remark seem slightly naked to Kurogane. He glared just to compensate.

Fye sent him a defiant smirk.

He suddenly shifted, a grin luminously bursting from his face, stretching his arms like a cat. "You were just ssooooo happy to see them," he sang and then fell back forward sharply, hands coming to rest against his knees, peering into Kurogane from the side, "and now you have me!" He smiled towards him pleasantly.

"I'm that lucky" Kurogane muttered sarcastically with a heavy sigh.

"You should be grateful," Fye practically giggled, poking him in the ribs, "I don't clean everyone's flats, you know. You're special."

He watched Kurogane growl and writhe on the other side of the car, unable to launch a full-on attack while driving, constrained to his seat, and Fye observed delightedly as his patience strained at its tether. Perhaps one day it'd snap and he'd be brutally murdered but for now he sat, retraining his smile, in a strange glow of self-satisfaction, milking his escape to the East for all it was worth.

* * *

_a/n: Pretty short chapter and so is the next one so I might post that one slightly soon. The problem with this story is that I barely planned anything in terms of chaptesr; it's al made up of individual events that sometimes connect. I might have a few sections like here that don't have to link and then a large lump of writing that can't be taken apart so expect a lot of variation in chapter length. Another thing is that because neither of them speak perfect English or even colloquial or informal English I'm limited when it comes to speech so I hope it feels clear or presents a nice change in that sense =)_


	8. A new dawn and a new day

Three days passed, Kurogane came home as usual, dumped his bag and his jacket on the table as usual, heaved a sigh and pressed a key into Fye's palm, immaculate in its image and sheen. Fye shot him a quizzical look.

"It'll be easier," Kurogane muttered testily, not wanting to answer to Fye, to be perceived as generous, and bundled onwards, heavily treading through to his room to change with a tired gait.

Fye peered around the corner, watched him close the door behind him and then looked down towards this key, weighing it in his hand, throwing it curiously up in the centre of his palm, a quaint frown on his face and gauging the time it could signify. To him, it symbolised something important, a quick change happening beneath his feet. It revealed a path, a straight run-way lit-up and drowned in lights. If he squinted his eyes a little then its destination would form a shape – solid and long-term. With that sight catching his eyes, causing him to intake a breath, sharp and small, he felt a fateful weight against himself, far heavier than the key itself. Part of him clutched at his own heart, trapping him as he realised how deeply he was burrowing himself into this land and this home, seeing now how far he would need to run to return: even a few days longer and he may find himself buried beneath and close to suffocation.

And yet, looking at his new life, his new companion, he supposed, he felt grateful for this opportunity to start anew, to rip away his skin and reveal a new person – an ugly, morbid and powerfully psychological metamorphoses perhaps but a chance at another beginning he felt that his life required at the time.

He heard the door open, the handle being pressed down, clicking out of place.

"What if I actually am a criminal, Kuro-sama?" he called, his words and his tone becoming mismatched, unable to be brought together fluidly, creating an awkward air.

"You would be a stupid criminal to wait 10 days to take my things," Kurogane retorted sharply and casually, dressed comfortably now, his clothes hanging about his stance rather than awkwardly boxing it in tight, direct lines the way his work clothes did.

"Maybe I am," laughed Fye with a playful wink, his mouth slowly being brought to a warm smile, perked at the edges, lined with mischief.

"Then you're a terrible criminal," Kurogane grumbled tensely as if chewing his words roughly and spitting them out again.

"You trust me too much," Fye smiled gratefully, words skipping off his tongue in a tone close to endearing, his eyes staring with a hard, certain gaze.

Kurogane glanced towards him, staring him up and down critically, balancing his Fye's words with his impression of him, before making one final utterance – "Tch!" – and leaving the room, slamming the door with a harsh, teeth-shattering crash and leaving Fye behind on the sofa smiling to himself and rolling the key over in his palm, taking his exit as an admission.

***

The terms and conditions for the use of these key followed thus – Fye could come and go as he pleased as long as it wouldn't bother or hinder Kurogane in any way; Fye could only go as far as he knew how to return from; Fye shouldn't take much money with him because Kurogane buys the food anyway.

It was difficult to say if these rules were restricting in any way or not – they were mostly formed from common sense – but either way Fye was complacent. Now and again he may nip out for some much-needed fresh air, trundling into a significantly brighter world, but otherwise he was content enough holed up in the apartment. A radio and an internet connection and that was him satisfied. Thinking about it, it became a lot clearer that he much preferred the simpler life.

So he might leave to stretch his legs occasionally but he spent the majority of his time washing windows, dusting corners, cleaning the crap out the fridge, revealing its original snow-white gleam and scrubbing the bathroom tiles to a pearl sheen – one you could shave in.

Okay, perhaps that was an over-exaggeration but it was about as miraculously clean as they were ever going to get and were never going to remain, and Kurogane might note that with mild interest and thanks before the place ended up a mess again, before the light fittings gathered dust or the cooker became caked with dried-on slop once more. In that way everything came back full circle. It was a small flat but there was always _something_ Fye could do. And if there was nothing he could do then he'd fire up the computer, throw open the windows, the lush air sweeping through the room hitting his nose, billowing the golden strands of his hair, and sit there, eyes poring over the German news, internet videos and fan-sites, his head daintily clasped in his hands as he exhaled a sigh. Sometimes he'd curl up on his sofa, a book in hand, feet bare, stretching out as he shifted position, reading upside down and sideways as the hours set into his body, tiring him. The curtains undulated just a little, demonstrating a dance on a worn and humbled stage, and the cool air soothed him as the cicadas sang summer, as the sun beat down its own vibrant melody outside – summer certainly made a more dramatic exit in Japan, he realised, sipping at his third glass of water, divinely cold against his lips.

He whiled away the hours in both never-ending toil and blissful relaxation in an oppressive heat, breathing wonderfully free and shameless air, unaware that, in a strange and roundabout way, he was being used.

***

"Renzu," he snapped in his best bartering voice, "I've got a lot more free time on my hands now…"

A tiny niggling like an argumentative mouse could be heard squeaking on the other end of the line, held against his ear, he gritted his teeth, snatching his glance about the room and trying to lower his voice while he was in the office, "Well it sure as hell sounds like you don't. I'm trying to help."

Even he wasn't fooling himself there but it was worth a shot. And if that wasn't going to produce the results then nothing would. Fight fire with fire and at least fight Renzu using her own dirty, underhand terms. Perhaps that was lowering himself but really he'd given up caring months before.

A minute later he set the phone down, her words ringing and reverberating like a holy bell within his head – "I'll think about it."

He grinned triumphantly, leaning back in his seat with a smug sense of relief and, predominantly, bright expectation.

***

A door closed, a pair of feet shuffled through the door and immediately Fye threw his legs off the seat.

"Kuro-pon," he sang as he bounced through, a gleaming smile on his face, welcoming him warmly, "_Okaeri-nasai._"

Kurogane only raised his eyes for a moment before glancing back down in mock disinterest as he shed his jacket. "Are you lonely?" he asked needlessly, gauging the answer for himself.

Fye's face dropped, his eyes lidded slightly as he reflected on the question. "_Mmm… naja…_" he mumbled in thought, his gaze held to the side and his lips hovering slightly open, a firm and slender shape. "Yes," he finally concluded, "I am alone here. I should feel lonely." He sighed, his mouth perking into a warm smile, his eyes glittering alongside, swatting about his hands animatedly, "But it's alright."

Kurogane gave him a moment's glance before passing straight by him into the living-room, an inconsiderate and weighty tread beneath his feet.

Fye frowned, almost offended as Kurogane brushed by him, not even granting him the slightest consideration, forcing Fye to feel shunned. Tolerance kicking into play, mental gears whizzing and winding, he turns, an opulent smile gracing his features, to face Kurogane, his blunt expression and equally blunt question, lacking in style.

"What films do you like?"

Fye raised his eyebrows in surprise.

***

It was a way of spending time together without an awkward silence. It was a form of entertainment and a form of thanks, assuring that Kurogane would spend more of his free time with Fye, locked without protest within a small space. Every few days, Kurogane would return to the flat with a rented DVD and after dinner he'd flop down on the sofa, Fye curling up at the other end, sinking peacefully into the twilight air, that atmosphere that clung to the ceiling, hanging lazily.

They shared thoughts, quibbles and snacks before the screen, a heart-warming laugh, an intelligent mind, Fye licking at his fingertips as he frowned in concentration at a thriller, a long spiel dribbling into their ears with a needless sense of haste and then back out again. Kurogane had given up on following the plot long before and was sitting impatiently, shifting every now and again, waiting for another action sequence – a simple world devoid of meanings, truths and lies. And sometimes he'd ask Fye a question and receive a punch on the arm or a get a rice snack thrown and stuck in his spiked hair as he let Fye's concentration slip on some really absolutely crucial moment, Fye snapping at him irritably to just pay was a bit late for that, Kurogane scoffed silently, already lost to the plot, these Americans running about screeching and screaming, whispering and rambling.

Okay, maybe language barrier was a slight problem. It was clear that Fye's English was always going to be a step above his own but they were getting to a point where it was straining a bit. Some nights dissolved into a senseless and muddled mime act, Fye waving about his arms about, desperately demonstrating directions and shapes and yanking at the material hanging over the balcony window for 'shut the curtains', eventually launching through to his bedroom and ripping them shut in frustration no matter the state of undress Kurogane was in. Unsurprisingly, he emerged a beetroot face, a sharp intake of breath, biting the inside of his cheek back in the living room. Kurogane's main problem had been 'pass the soy sauce', pointing furiously at the bottle by Fye's side for a spell before a little slot clicked into place inside Fye's head, raising his eyebrows, crying 'Oh!' before handing it over. The bottle was fiercely snatched from his hands. And then came 'do you want me to wash your clothes or would you rather do your own separate wash?' - a nightmare filled with gritted teeth, raised voices, washing flying about as hands acted motions for the hundredth time…

Eventually Kurogane relented and bought them both dictionaries – a mistake in hindsight. Fye spent half an hour picking out various names for Kurogane in both English and German – whether cute pet names or slanderous insults, Kurogane was unable to tell – and Kurogane promptly tried to bite his head off each and every time, never learning or resisting the impulses of his boiling blood. Fye swiftly avoided every attack, smiling like a shield, some impenetrable wall. And then his eyelids would hover, half shut and his tongue would slip, another joke poked at Kurogane's expense rolling out of curved lips, pulling taut into a teasing grin.

Even if he annoyed Kurogane to no ends, though, even if living with him was chaos, some infuriating and never-ending cycle of teasing and shouting, there was some aspect to having him around that Kurogane certainly enjoyed. Perhaps it was the renewed state of his flat, spotless and attended, care spouting from each cleaned and dusted corner. Maybe it was the company he'd sorely lacked in his first year living alone for over five years, the solitude within the walls slowly receding as Fye smiled a pleasant welcome home. It could even have been the food, those proper cooked meals (a faded memory in a flat previously knee-deep in take outs) that they took turns to make, sometimes together, Kurogane teaching Fye the art of Japanese cooking to the best of his non-existent abilities.

Whatever. The point was that there was a pleasant side to the young German man's surprising and long visit – one that Kurogane was awkwardly grateful for, watching his life slowly change with the demented blonde smiling cheerily, a playful edge, at the helm.

There was no clear way for Kurogane to express this so he shut it tight, sealed it away, watching with a loose sense of relief as Fye chopped vegetables, reminiscing on his much-missed potatoes as he went.

* * *

_a/n: No offence to the potato eating German readers, if I went to Japan then I'd be missing potatoes too =( and I don't even like potatoes that much. As a slight note, 'okaeri-nasai' means 'welcome home' in Japanese if you didn't know before. It's frequently used in anime about every time a character walks through a door and if Fye's a manga geek then he's likely to have heard it somewhere before.. On the same sort of note 'naja…' in German is like 'well…' but please correct me if I'm wrong. And the next chapter may be utterly HUGE, I'm not even kidding. I've got nearly 6000 words without any subject change at all. I might be able to cut it down but be prepared ;)_


	9. The weekend to ourselves

_a/n: As promised, here is a gigantic chapter! Seriously it's over twice as long as the things I'd usually post, I've written decently sized one-shots shorter than this (which I should really get around to posting) … Well, enjoy!_

* * *

Five weeks and five weekends – five Sundays Kurogane took his children to the aquarium, to the zoo, to the park and Fye wandered the streets, a jubilant hum in his throat, a skip in his step, not a care in the world; a gift. There wasn't an ounce of recognition of the unpredictability in the world within their locked and chained stratosphere, veiled from outside eyes.

The sixth Saturday came, the sun shining meekly through the clouds as their humble little routine became brutally interrupted.

Fye had heard the message arrive while Kurogane was out– a click and then a voice. He'd listened with a childish and innate fascination as the voice crept into his ear, a woman's voice, her tone sharp and unsympathetic.

And now he watched as Kurogane spat furious swears into the air, clenching his fists into a dementedly tight grip, like he was trying to violently strangle some invisible substitute for a neck, snapping it, crushing it clean of air. Fye set his glass down, a careful and gentle clink, as he observed this writhing, spitting ball of flames listen to the uncaring Japanese voice spilling from the tiny speaker, cold and revised. Cogs turning in his mind, taking in the level of Kurogane's anger, that relentless fury he only saw one day per week, he gave this voice an image, or rather an identity – Renzu.

She stopped speaking and the answering machine clicked and bleeped, protesting innocence. Kurogane threw a fast and furious fist, bashing down on the button with vengeful wrath and heaved a ragged breath in a failed attempt to cool his blood.

Fye found himself wondering how much any of this was his business. But in the end, he allowed a cheery smile to grace his face, pushing away from the sink with a happy bumble beneath his feet, sliding easily into the seat opposite Kurogane, clasping his head in his hands and peering into the man curiously. Kurogane's eyes lifted, meeting his with a burning glare, flickering with distemper and aggravation. Much like the eyes of a predator, Fye thought, his smile slipping slowly upwards, his own eyes gauging Kurogane's, matching them perfectly. "What happened?" he asked softly, probing gently into Kurogane, walking into the inferno.

And as fierce and violent a glare as Kurogane could deliver, Fye wouldn't budge – he merely stared into him with those piercing eyes, a colour like ice digging sharply beneath his skin and easing its way in chillingly. Kurogane pulled his gaze away, relenting and emitting a thoughtful grunt as he tried to explain the situation to Fye. "She has the children. They're staying with her parents." He leaned back in his chair, nothing more to say, a frown deeply creasing his brow, burying anger and thought into his expression.

Fye raised his eyebrows and smiled simply as he spotted an obvious answer. "So go there," he suggested, delicate and ironic, head balanced elegantly in hand.

Perhaps not so obvious.

Kurogane's eyes narrowed again, glaring pointedly towards Fye before closing as he folded his arms and settled back into his chair. "I can't stay there. They hate me," he said roughly, tone hovering awkwardly.

"For leaving?" Fye asked innocently, shifting his chair in closer and clasping his head in his hands as he brought himself forward, laying his body delicately across the table.

A question too far apparently – he received a dangerous look, a bitter and biting glare snapping at him fiercely. 'Mind your own business' it spat, promptly shoving Fye away from Kurogane's personal life.

Fye gave a wide smile – one which Kurogane couldn't figure out whether it was an apology or a silent remark, curved smoothly and sly, holding a thick and impervious nature and raised kindly at its edges, glowing. Then, firmly, he slammed his hands palm-down decisively. "_Aaaaaaaaalso_," he declared as his eyes resettled on Kurogane, sparkling optimistically like jewels, "what should we do instead?"

Kurogane leaned forward, frowning questioningly. "…We?" he stated uncertainly; as if he'd never known that the two of them could possibly exist together as a 'we'.

Fye nodded expectantly, grinning like a man gone mad, full of cheer and hope. "Well…?"

Kurogane scratched the back of his neck, frowning thoughtfully as he settled against the back of his chair.

***

"No, no, no, no, no, Kuro-chan," he sang, shaking his head in time to the melody within his voice and holding up a smooth, pale finger in the air, letting it hover there pointedly, swaying a little. "The Atacama is in America."

"It'll be Africa," Kurogane stated definitely, gruffly, gesturing towards the sickly bright TV with his beer can as he allowed all of his weight to sink into the sofa, the absorbed skin becoming mellow.

"_Nei_!" Fye interjected sharply, scrunching his face up slightly and now waggling his finger towards the screen they'd found themselves jokingly trapped to. "Can you hear it? That's not from Africa…"

"Maybe it's not North America…" Kurogane argued solemnly.

The presenter beamed a smile, plastic and bleached, politely forming an answer through her white teeth.

"What was it?" Fye asked, frowning confusedly, as if he'd actually expected to understand her and had then been greatly disappointed.

"South America," Kurogane answered, falling agitatedly back into his seat.

"Oh…" Fye said, his face dropping before he dissolved into a pile of giggles and burst suddenly, vibrantly and violently into laughter, pouring from his mouth, both abundant and glorious. He lolled his head against the back of the sofa, bringing it to rest there placidly, in peace, a pleased and curled smile still lying against his mouth. He tipped back his beer bottle.

Kurogane breathed deeply, squinting his eyes slightly to read the next question, face set in a frighteningly stern expression. "How many countries are in Asia?"

"Hhhhmmmm," Fye pondered, tapping a finger against his lips, finally stating assertively, "48." He glanced over to Kurogane, staring in an almost giddy happiness. "Your answer?"

Kurogane merely shrugged, shutting his eyes and returning to his reflective couch wallowing.

Fye playfully jabbed his arm, pouting and whining, "No fun!" before buzzers and alarms started ringing and he turned his attention back to the TV. "How many?"

"47."

"Damn."

"Good try."

"Thank you!" Fye beamed, downing a little more of his drink, smiling self-satisfactorily, that silly happiness sliding through into the room.

It hadn't exactly started like this – in fact, Kurogane was vaguely certain that it had started as an innocent Japanese lesson and then slowly descended into a terrible-afternoon-TV drinking session. Which had its fun sides, he had to admit. It was nine by now.

"Who did…" he started to read and then furrowed his eyebrows in heavy confusion, unable to translate. "…_what_?"

"Nelson Mandela!" Fye declared with utmost certainty, raising both his voice and his hand, throwing his arm and empty bottle into the air with jubilant enthusiasm as the programme slipped into an ad break.

Kurogane chortled in amusement at the reaction, a rough and distinct tone, rifling through his dictionary, a missing word in mind, and then shutting it with an almost meditative air and a definite snap - "You're drunk."

Fye laughed gleefully and tapped the side of his nose with a wink, singing tunefully, "Maybe."

"You are," Kurogane said assertively, an entertained and almost superior smirk tugging at his lips, the alcohol perhaps digging too deep into his system. The kid was a light-weight but he attributed that to age. Now he was a father and an ex-husband he could reminisce happily upon the days when he was the same – youthful and carefree, no commitments or responsibility. Actually thinking about it was making him feel old. And he wasn't old at all.

"I'm not. Look." Fye sprang up from his seat, bouncing determinedly across the carpet of the living room, stopping and placing his feet together with intention, a grin he tried to drown in a serious expression tweaking at the corners of his mouth. He walked forward with care, placing his tread within a straight line. "One, two-"

He promptly fell over the coffee table.

Kurogane spurted a slight and cruel laugh, the corners of his mouth tweaking awkwardly, appearing self-righteous as Fye picked himself back up, balancing uncertainly and declaring jubilantly, "Yes! Yes, I am drunk!"

Kurogane shook his head at a lack of any other response to give, feeling the sofa jerk beneath him as Fye threw himself back down on the seat next to him, joyously and childishly, exaggeratedly pulling his legs back up and grinning dementedly, stating, "But I'm happy."

Kurogane raised his eyebrows, having overdone it slightly as well; perhaps not making an idiot out of himself, but his head was a bleary mess, struggling to place things at a sensible rate. "Are you?"

"Yes," Fye answered, nodding his head so furiously that it made him dizzy. His smile slipped, rising playfully. "Are you?"

Kurogane shut his eyes, sliding down the chair and folding his legs over each other on top of the coffee table.

"Kuro-riiiiiiiinnn!" Fye moaned for an answer, poking him animatedly on the arm, leaning over and shuffling closer to him, pouting disappointedly.

"Tch, no," Kurogane muttered grumpily in response, folding his arms as well.

"Aaaahhh!" Fye almost groaned in defeat, flopping down on to his back, his legs lying curled beside Kurogane and letting his arms flap about as he sighed in dismay, "Kuro-chan is never happy!"

Kurogane glanced over to him, watching him shift about as his eyes resettled towards the TV screen and then flicked away in disinterest, closing and pressing himself sleepily into that beaten, heart-felt material swathing the seat, encompassing him, allowing him rest, his golden locks sliding across his face and pooling beautifully on to the seat, illuminated in this dank and human light. He emitted a small smile, drunken and happy, and pushed his face further into the seat.

And eventually Kurogane's eyebrow furrowed, a question coming to mind suddenly. "Why are you here?"

Fye frowned slightly, sleepily, as he raised his head, his pretty smile dropping instantly and falling away into a cold void. "I… I don't know." He sat upright, scrunching his eyes tight shut and shaking his head lightly, mind an indecipherable fog. "Nope, I don't know."

"How?" Kurogane volleyed irritably, eyes now narrowing.

Fye's eyes slunk over, meeting his and feeling that strange clash of eye contact, hard, brutal and solid. He averted his gaze, brushing his hair away from his eyes distractedly and muttering, "I can't think… I don't want to think…" He emitted a huge sigh, using the majority of his chest just to pack all the air into his lungs and push it back out again. He then grinned and laughed giddily, repeating cheerily with much more bulk and weight, "I don't want to think."

Kurogane glared at him suspiciously, frustrated and angry, his eyes pulsing and burning in aggravation. However Fye was not so drunk as to be unable to respond, staring him straight on, building a careless and happy smile on his face, content to just trundle on the way things were, without explanation, and a sharp glint beneath his eyes stating fiercely and adamantly that things were going to stay that way.

Unable to spy a crack to prise open or to smash wide clear to retrieve the answer he deserved, Kurogane retreated, grunting in displeasure. And at his side, Fye sat back straight again, settling with his gaze towards the TV, a clipped and proud smile alighting his face, raised slightly in achievement.

Kurogane frowned at him once more before turning back in indignation, eyes spinning back in annoyance to the new question splayed across the screen, tone grunting threateningly, "The capital of Australia?"

"Canberra," Fye answered easily, resting against the sofa once more, a happy smile at his lips.

Kurogane muttered agitated words under his breath, something sitting heavily and uncomfortably in his chest, making him restless. And visibly so.

Fye now stared towards him, a markedly different feeling emerging within, rising sorrowfully through him, a pang of guilt stabbing at him suddenly, blurred at the edges in his intoxication but still noticeable and painful. "Sorry," he whispered solemnly, staring towards the TV. "I can't."

He felt those heavy, red eyes shift over to him, staring dubiously and judgementally and smiled softly, a gentle curve. "If I can then I will. You should know… of everyone, you should know." His voice sank away into nothing, his eyes turning away to the dull and mottled carpet, nodding, fading into a slow bob, a sadly contemplative stare, wet beneath his eyes.

Kurogane allowed the moment to sink away, his face blank as his attention drew back towards the TV, placated slightly. Gruffly, he channel-hopped, flicking past rapidly, sometimes settling for a few moments.

"_And the weather tomorrow afternoon looks…_"

"Cloudy!" Fye burst out, leaping forward in his seat and grinning hopefully.

"Shut up!" Kurogane snapped, attacking him with the remote.

"Ow!"

***

It wouldn't always be this way.

Perhaps Fye was unused to the alcohol in his system at that age, falling under its influence all to easily and naively, but as he grew older, as a more experienced aura and tone emanated from the skin, the manner in which he held himself, that edge to his eyes matured then eventually, step by step, year by year, his tolerance grew and strengthened until he was finally able to drink Kurogane under the table.

Naturally, everyone joked that it was because he was German but he took their jibes in good-humour, claiming that his exposure to alcohol had increased exponentially ever since he'd moved in with Kurogane.

***

"I'm tired," he declared, mouth gaping like a chasm in a yawn.

Kurogane neglected to reply, save to raise his eyebrows sarcastically and skip another few channels in an attitude of explicit disinterest.

It was ten. And by now, Fye had exhausted every drop of energy within his body, pouring it heedlessly into his drunken, carefree and naïve antics, his free and singing laughter, his arms waving and wading in wide, structural crescents, mind buzzing with demented haste, his lips dripping and rolling soft and simple words, intonating them to string them together and form a beautiful, jubilant tune. He regretted it now, feeling his consciousness fall dangerously from his body, hanging over some bottomless pit, drooping eyelids and dangling limbs, slumped against the back of the sofa, pressed into it almost grudgingly.

He'd collapsed slowly and steadily, body gradually shutting down like a closing shop or wilting like a long-forgotten flower, sliding in tiny steps deeper and deeper into the sofa, completely drained. Kurogane watched on repeat as he laid his head into the soft and comforting padding, shutting his eyes tenderly and self-consciously, and brushing blissfully against the outer reaches of sleep, luxurious dreams gleaming like precious jewels beneath his fingertips, only to screw up his face as the noises of the TV, brash and tasteless, crashed abruptly against his senses, ripping him violently from much yearned for rest. He gave a lingering and frustrated glare towards Kurogane, the volume button lying teasingly beneath his thumb, with a mouth set in disdain. Then he sighed.

"Sleep!" Kurogane suggested angrily, as though he were consciously trying to be cold and selfish, as unhelpful and irritating as he could be.

"Can't," Fye mumbled sleepily, prodding Kurogane with his foot. "This is my bed."

Kurogane responded by changing the channel.

Fye groaned in aggravation, throwing himself on to his other side and turning his back on Kurogane in a bitter huff, falling dramatically and exaggeratedly, unable to shut out the noise from the TV blearing incessantly in his ears, setting root in his mind and gripping on for dear life no matter how hard Fye tried to rip the sounds away.

Kurogane supposed that the simple solution to get him to shut up and stop whining would be to offer him his own bed for the night. It was just a shame for Fye that Kurogane would then be forced to set up camp in the living-room. The sofa was probably too small and cramped to accommodate his bulk and height. Pity. So, he reasoned, they'd both just have to deal with it – one with torturous sleep deprivation and the other with the constant poking, moaning and tormenting…

Although he turned the volume down a fraction, now unsure why he was even insisting on watching TV other than out of stubborn and fine-tuned habit. Frankly, it was all shit.

He pushed away Fye's feet once more, creeping towards him slowly and encroaching on his personal space in a futile attempt to spread himself comfortably over the sofa.  
After another few minutes of attempts, Fye finally gave his deepest sigh yet, shifting his whole chest and lifting his shoulders to their full height just to encompass the gigantic breath, and asked, voice between death and sleep, "Kuro-meaniiieeee, head or feet?"

Kurogane frowned, confusion pressed into the crease in his forehead but replied, toneless and unquestioning, "Head."

"Okay," Fye chirped, falling smoothly across and dropping his head down onto his lap before Kurogane could complain, splaying out his full height over the tiny and strained sofa, settling briefly and bidding a quick and pointed, "Good night," before shutting his eyes and slipping smoothly away into a long-awaited sleep.

Kurogane heaved a frustrated groan, thankful only that Fye's head was turned away, feeling it awkwardly pressed against his legs just before the knee. Clasping his shoulders, he gripped them fiercely, digging his fingers into his shoulder blades and tugging abruptly, attempting to coax him out of his invasion. To no avail – Fye barely stirred save to shift into a slightly more comfortable position and lay a hand on Kurogane's knee, spreading out his fingers stubbornly in indignation.

The older man's teeth gritted, grinding on themselves down to the root and he snatched Fye's skinny arms, yanking them, attempting to prise him off and throw him to the other end of the sofa, a damn useless distraction. Fye merely smirked, his lips curling cruelly as he nestled his head a bit further into Kurogane's lap.

Kurogane's frown deepened in realisation. So that's how it was…

He folded his arms and leant back nonchalantly, as though nothing had changed since he'd last glanced towards the screen. This little game was a little childish for his liking but at the very least he knew how to win. And surprisingly for a man of such little tolerance, it was a matter of patience. Not his brightest virtue exactly but when it came to a waiting game, the idea of losing was not too favourable with him either.  
So he waited, arms folded, heart set in stone as he attempted to quell any perception of weight against his legs, staring towards the obnoxiously bright screen as if nothing had ever happened, as if the TV had been left to steadily liquefy his mind uninterrupted. He would deftly foil this plan laid out and executed pristinely, only a single wrinkle on its surface giving away the intention, set out to irk him and pass payment for Fye's heavy and pressing exhaustion, for banishing him from precious sleep. Clever yet somehow naïve – alighting and framing his youth in a simple frame. Kurogane ignored the tweaking of fingertips, playing cunningly on his mind, and his soft breath spilling lightly against his jeans, procuring an unprepared intimacy, imitating a deep and wonderful sleep.

That charade lasted maybe a minute more before Fye cracked like an egg, shattering like glass, this newly hatched and awkward atmosphere digging bluntly at both their guts with spoons. First his eyes squeezed tight shut, slight creases forming about his eyes with brutal focus, as though not a single trace of his surroundings should infiltrate his senses, becoming pinned in his mind, playing the same unavoidable tune over and over again. His attempts to remain blank proving futile, secondly the corners of his mouth twitched desperately and helplessly, betraying consciousness. It was the single crack that brought down the whole wall – he finally burst into laughter, floating embarrassed and joyous through the night air, muffled uncomfortably in Kurogane's thickly built legs. It reverberated more like a series of giggles, chuckling innocently between breaths, "I feel like a cat!" The never-ending spiel of laughter carried on, singing drunkenly and innocently through the darkness, a little river of happiness in the night.

Shoulders shuddering against his knees, Kurogane smirked, dark and victorious, relieved, and gave Fye a sharp shove, indicating that he should just give up, that he should piss back off to his own side of the sofa. However Fye remained, clutching at Kurogane's knees stubbornly through his whimsical laughter.

Finally Kurogane muttered a sharp, "Tch," as his patience snapped cleanly in two and his irritation got the better of him, standing up unsympathetically, ignoring the blonde youth on his lap and nearly sending him spiralling on to the floor with a pitiful yelp, dangling precariously over the edge, half on the ground. He glanced down towards him for a moment with an indifferent edge in his eyes hiding the strange and unaccustomed guilt rising within his chest as Fye pouted grudgingly, cold blue eyes staring towards him in hurt and annoyance as he languidly clambered back on to the sofa, dragging and shuffling his way back up, only a couple of dregs of strength remaining within him. It reminded Kurogane a bit of a kitten, ironically…

He turned away and went to the bathroom, stopping by the kitchen on his way back and taking another drink from the fridge, lino sticking to the soles of his feet, clinging to his skin irritatingly and persistently, those lights from outside skimming lazily into the room and hovering there, equally tired and restless. As he padded back through to the living room, cold drink in hand, a bleary and relaxed atmosphere wallowing in the back of his mind, he took in the sight of Fye lying there and heaved an agitated and weary breath. The TV was on mute and, having escaped that infuriating and cyclical trap of noise and frustration, he had laid his head down, pressing himself into the sofa without care or attention, curled up warmly in the middle, the very heart, and drifted off quickly and thankfully into sleep. It had encompassed him freely, allowing him to sink deep within in such a short space of time. In fact as Kurogane half-perched on a free space on the sofa next to him, bringing his weight down and shifting the seat slightly, as he'd placed an inconvenienced and cautious hand against his shoulder and shaken him carefully, Fye hadn't stirred or moved or even taken it into recognition. His eyes were closed loosely and contentedly, his lips separated just a fraction, inhaling tender and wide breaths in his sleep, for the time being searching dreams in a semblance of peace so deep it verged on determined.

Kurogane grunted in irritation, too stubborn to retreat to bed and call it a day, instead opting to gathering his limp body up in his arms, an immobile and empty shell dangling heavily and pressed closely, head lolling delicately against his chest.

Miraculously, he remained in his inhumanly deep and contained sleep, lost to the outside world, as Kurogane dumped his body unceremoniously on to his bed without a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes, returning thoughtfully to wrap half the duvet across his undisturbed body, head rested placidly against the pillow, seemingly at home there, flickers of golden hair curled lightly across his forehead and spread gracefully onto the generous pillow. Kurogane heaved a reluctantly accepting breath, dragging his weight back through to the living-room and, after a while, setting himself down on the sofa indignantly and hesitantly, cramped and uncomfortable as he pulled the blanket over himself, as he threw his body viciously from side to side, finding it impossible to get comfortable with his feet jammed against the arm-rest. God only knows how he even managed to fall asleep there and god only knows why he'd even resorted to this in the first place.

He awoke with a crick in his neck, bitterly cursing that damned idiot.

***

The idiot woke up and blinked his eyes firmly, uncertainly as he lay there for a moment, swathed in the close and pressing material of his clothes from yesterday, of the duvet, heavy on his body after two months wrapped tightly and warmly in a thin blanket on the sofa. He tentatively pushed the duvet away from his eyes, turning and rising both steadily and curiously, glancing about himself… Kurogane's bedroom.

He flipped over on to his other side, ducking from the piercing rays of sunlight shooting through his eyes and crashing against his skull, awakening something allergic to the morning, and pulling the covers over his head with a groan as he peeked through to check the digital clock laid reliably by the side of Kurogane's bed, set in firm angles against the bedside table, those digital numbers glowing numbly… His head tumbled sleepily back into the pillow and under the sheets, still retaining some warmth, trying to bury himself in mild aggravation, a hammer whacking finely against his brain… nearly afternoon…

He heaved a sigh, realising that he wasn't tired enough to lull himself back to the soft reaches of sleep, to relieve himself of the hangover ripping apart his head and scattering the pieces like confetti. So reluctantly, he sat up, covering his eyes from the sun like a small child playing hide-and-seek and oh so hesitantly swung his feet over the side of the bed, feeling that unfamiliar carpet press invasively between his toes as he began to realise what must have happened the night before to have brought him here.

He made the bed, a small sign of thanks, immaculately smoothing out the sheet until not a wrinkle could be seen or felt, then plodded through to the bathroom, practically on his knees as he brushed his teeth and crawled into the shower, blasting himself with water, standing there as the water drilled resentfully against his throbbing head, hot rivulets slinking blissfully down his sides before he urged himself out.

That was when he first heard those noises, banging and clattering, reverberating resentfully in his mind as he plodded through to the living room in a towel, gritting his teeth in irritation. Half-naked and dripping on the floor slightly, he felt painfully self-conscious as he snatched a set of clothes laid in a neat pile beside his bag, pressed unobtrusively by the side of the sofa, and hastily retreated back into the bathroom to change. When he emerged, glowing and radiant on the outside, a dull storm cloud lashing within, mere dregs of light and strength clinging on, he padded through to the kitchen, tracking the source of that infuriating noise, banging on incessantly, driven by a keen sense of curiosity. He sauntered over to the door to the spare room leading off from the kitchen, peering inside and coming to fall against the frame dozily as he watched a scene play out before his half-focused eyes.

The spare room was home to an assortment of clutter and junk, spread in disorganised piles and heaps about the neglected floor. He usually found it difficult to negotiate whilst cleaning without toppling or breaking something that should have been discarded a long, long time ago – broken furniture and appliances, old clothes, dusty CDs and tapes. In fact he barely went in there at all anymore seeing as the room appeared to be forever abandoned, left to fade away and rot.

For the time being this rubbish was arranged in a clump against the furthermost wall, towering pitifully and precariously to the side of the cleared space in the centre of the room where Kurogane was crouched over a collection of large bits and pieces of welded metal and cheap planks of wood, appearing fairly aggravated but focused.

"What are you doing?" Fye called out confusedly, softly pressing his head against the wooden door frame, allowing himself to sink against it.

Kurogane turned and stared towards him disinterestedly, registering only his presence before turning back to his work, shunning Fye from his vision like a pointless distraction as he continued picking and analysing screw shapes and sizes, comparing their spiralling whorl with the instructions set carelessly and untouched by his side, barely referred to or given a single thought. Eventually, mildly satisfied with his selection, he picked up a screwdriver and indirectly responded, away from Fye's eyes, "I'm making your bed."

Fye raised his eyebrows, those words bouncing off the fog inside his soggy excuse for a mind at the time, eventually dropping them, frowning as he muttered bemusedly, "There's a bed?"

"There will be," Kurogane replied, screwdriver held tightly in hand, working furiously on the framework with a rigid and determined expression, set like stone. He was a man who tended to concentrate on a job, who would grapple with it and never let it go until it was complete, becoming easily nerved when it came to interruptions and keeping a steady, focused mind. So he stared with a hardened edge as the blonde floated light-heartedly into the room, skimming over the bits of bed lying about and came to place himself gracefully next to him, a touched smile rising wonderfully and gleaming warmly, kind-heartedly.

"Thank you," Fye stated gently and genuinely, the words spilling from somewhere unseen inside him.

Kurogane gave him a sharp and dubious stare, undermining his own actions as he frowned disbelievingly at the depth of Fye's gratitude, then turned away with a bitter and dismissive, "Tch, you're welcome," pushing the matter directly and effectively behind them with a gruff edge.

Fye's smile dimmed appropriately as he glanced about himself with focus, ignoring his hangover, throbbing dully and heavily, picking up tools and reaching past Kurogane for the instructions with a reflective and contented air, humming cheerily as he decisively set to work, fiddling with tools and screws. He didn't say much but now and then he would stare towards his handiwork, frowning uncertainly as he tightened the frame, rocking it hesitantly, doubt spread over his face thickly in the way he furrowed his eyebrows, the sharp and tight twist in his lips. He'd poke about it haphazardly, logical but perhaps impractical, until finally Kurogane would take the tools out of his hands, moving over, forcing Fye to shuffle away as he tightened everything for him, a grip and stare so harsh they could snap whatever they came in contact with but the tools withheld, remaining intact beneath his strong and pressing hand, and finally he slapped a decisive palm against the metal frame, hearing it ring encouragingly, structurally solid.

"Hyuu hyuu!" Fye chirped delightedly, clapping lightly in emphasis and receiving a questioning frown. He merely shrugged, unsure how to explain, unable to find a reason why he needed to, and grinning a sly, almost cat-like grin before rising elegantly and skimming through to the kitchen, not to be seen by Kurogane for another half an hour. When he re-emerged he was balancing a tray carefully in hand, carrying a thoughtfully and kindly prepared meal, slipping through the door with a precious glint in his eyes. Bringing himself down on to the floor, tucking his legs beneath him to rest himself comfortably on the visible pieces of floor, he pushed the tray towards Kurogane with a loose and friendly smile, suggesting a strangely dislodged and unassuming picnic held between the two of them in the middle of this scrambled room, boxes towering around them like an audience, an awkward thanks emerging abruptly at Kurogane's lips as he reached for the chopsticks.

They finished their work after their simple meal, talking and laughing somewhere between strangers and friends – the bed, a piece of mismatched handiwork standing solidly in the middle of the room. Kurogane heaved the mattress on and watched as Fye fell on top, immediately pressing himself into it, tilting his head and burying in deeper, a wide and helpless grin upon his face, laughter contained and welling up in his throat. His eyes opened, twinkling youthfully, the gratitude within sparkling like diamonds as he smiled, small and wonderfully contented, towards his tenant's stilted and jarred sense of generosity. Kurogane gave a quick and satisfied smirk, a sense of achievement rising within him beyond his control and then left the room, allowing Fye to move his things through to his new bedroom.

***

It'd been over a month. More than a month of that damn sofa. And now, stretching out his arms it felt as if he were free somehow. There was a whole world out there but he'd never wanted the world, he'd wanted a close feeling, an attachment. Sprawled there, a childish giggle spread on his lips, he allows himself to drift off to wherever this world may take him, where it might want to take him. I mean it had worked so far, right?

Something told him, a little niggling voice as the springs beneath adjusted to his weight, that he'd overstayed his welcome. But he didn't want to face himself right now; not yet. He buried his face a little farther into his pillow.

He'd miss those mornings, those strange and awkward mornings where Kurogane would wake him in passing, where they'd share a garbled early morning conversation and a half-chewed breakfast together before Kurogane departed. A bathroom that always smelt strongly of aftershave and deodorant and a bed half-made, the curtains half-open…

Something clutching at his chest, he realised that this man had done too much for him, and perhaps that made him feel guilty but in another strange way wanted. That's all anyone wants, isn't it? Their relationship so far had been a bit of a strange one, filled with swearing and partial English, with customs and clashes, but there was something within their oddly paired personalities that made them somehow compatible together. Strangely they made good roommates. One was clean and the other made money… okay perhaps this pairing was slightly selfish on both sides but he could definitely feel something lurking beneath the surface – a mutuality perhaps. He felt it blossoming into a close and keen friendship.

His heart rose a little in his chest, his personal smile widened slightly as he thought of this, of knowing someone, having an unbiased connection. He thought of his own severed world tucked up in bed, floating on a boat drifting out into a deep and unknown sea, rocking gently… he inhaled the salty air, a sharp tang on his tongue with an almost giddy appreciation, a sense of freedom, not a single element behind his back oppressing him darkly and unknowingly.

So there was a strong feeling of gratitude within him – thankful to the person who had invited him to this world, handed him the key.

He would pay it back to him in smiles and laughter, an element sorely lacking in Kurogane's world. He understood that he would never be able to fill that deep and sorrowful cavern within him, that gap where in the past he would have held his children in his arms. There was no way he could replace that feeling. Instead he would blunt that cutting edge digging spitefully into Kurogane's chest, he'd try his very best to soothe his wound with a glowing smile, a fun disposition, a more upbeat life-style and fresh coffee in the morning.

It was the least he could do in return.

On Sunday night he fell asleep in a blissfully large and encompassing bed, knowing that he'd done his job that day, something rising joyously within him as his consciousness dropped like a rock and he slipped into something beautiful and unreal.

* * *

_a/n: Okay, first note (and once more feel free to correct me, in fact, please do!) 'Aaaaaaaalso' was a little something I got taught in German by the assistant as a way of hesitating in a speaking exam while still speaking correct German xD I'd say it roughly translates to things like 'Weeeeeeeeeeeeell' and 'Aaaaaaaaaaaaanyway'  
Second note – For some reason I was certain the Atacama was in North America from a quiz show I watched and I had to swap it about last minute lol Alcohol deteriorates Fye and Kurogane's sense of geography. And then I thought Istanbul was the capital of Turkey and it isn't so I had to change that too X.X I didn't think my geography was THAT bad… Fye must get really sleepy when he's drunk in this…  
More notes – I'm on exam leave so don't expect any rapid updates, I'll be busy crying over Maths problems.  
Well, hope you're enjoying it!_


	10. Unexpected visitors

A bell rang and somehow Fye felt like a shameful secret – he supposed that he was – being shoved through to the living-room, hearing the door slam behind him violently, in a rushed panic and then the much gentler opening of the front door. It still clattered, the hinges sobbing in agony after suffering months of abuse.

Then the world fell silent.

Renzu heaved a long-suffering sigh before averting her eyes, appearing as if she were sinking to a new low. She gripped two small hands tightly, painfully. Finally she lifted her head, raising her chin to bridge their gap in height and stare Kurogane in the eyes. "Are you able to look after the kids?" she asked with apparent difficulty.

Kurogane frowned, glancing her over mistrustfully, however she was one step ahead of him.

"I know!" she snapped loudly and then heard herself, bit her lip, receded again, feeling ashamed. "My sister's in hospital. I need to be there for her… but there was no one else I knew who could take the children at such short notice," she uttered in a much quieter voice, breaking and crumbling at the edges.

He glanced down to them, breaking into a smile beyond his control as he gazed towards their small, confused faces, their bags clutched grimly in tiny fingers.

Her voice rising steadily, she continued. "I know I should have called but I didn't want to explain myself to you and I still don't." Her eyes flicked up towards him, glinting not only with a seething and loathing taint but with traces of tears. "I don't want this to be a peace-treaty or anything, I just want to see if Ruka is alright." She bit her lip sharply, dropped her gaze, gulping away her tears.

"I understand," he muttered neutrally.

She glared daggers, pressing them tightly into his skin and twisting as she shook her head. "You don't understand. There isn't a trace of sympathy in your body. But I do know that you're willing to do anything for these two…" She emitted a breath, her voice strained and wavering, whether in anger or sorrow it was difficult to tell. She gave a small, desperate smile, her grip on their innocent and unknowing hands tightened, seeking comfort. "Please help me just this once and don't say anything."

Kurogane nodded bluntly, stoically, his mind grunting in aggravation 'Just pass them over'. He bit it back, watching her press motherly kisses into their cheeks, smiling soothingly. They said nothing, clearly perturbed at their mother's shaken state.

She left, a brief, "Thank you," awkwardly passing her lips and leaving Kurogane with their two children, their warmth passing gratefully into his skin… until he remembered…

***

"Should I leave?" Fye whispered in an almost panicky tone.

"Where will you stay?" Kurogane asked in a heavy grunt, pacing back and forth, scratching his neck in his own distempered form of worry. He couldn't leave them on their own in the other room for much longer either…

Fye smiled encouragingly, hands pressed in lap and shrugged. "I have enough money for a hotel."

Kurogane frowned towards him for perhaps slightly longer than necessary, staring at him with a dubious and uncertain tone beneath. As if he expected Fye to get lost in the urban darkness or run off into the night never to be seen again, perhaps carrying half his personal belongings. Or maybe he'd die relying on that fluffed up pincushion he called a brain to guide him in the outside world. "Er…" he mumbled, thinking.

He thought a little too long and found himself interrupted.

Usui peeked around the door, taking in the shared company with a great deal of interest and apprehension before asking, "Who's that?" to his father.

Fye raised his eyebrows, staring pleadingly towards Kurogane who, at that moment in time, was completely lost for words and ideas, desperately searching for an escape route, pointing towards the blonde intruder with a confused crease in his forehead and repeatedly muttering, "Ah … that's … that's….ah…."

Fye sighed, giving up on hope for this new and ingenious explanation, an expression twisted in disappointment suddenly flicking into a radiant beam. He pressed a hand to his chest, a grin shining brightly on a cheery face and exclaimed pleasantly, "_Hallo, ich bin Fye_," at a lack of anything else to say.

The small child blinked in confusion, his brows furrowing deeply, his lips pressed into a distempered pout that reminded Fye of the boy's father. His own gaze skipped back and forth between the two, smiling innocently, eyes daring Kurogane to complain.

Kurogane glared at him in annoyance before grumbling something under his breath, reaching for his wrist and tugging it sharply upwards, letting go once Fye had pushed himself curiously up on to his feet. Beckoning Fye to follow, he took his son by the hand and led them through to the kitchen where Mio was sat, using an expensive looking biro to scrawl some pregnant and tailed conjoined balloons posing as flowers on the back of a bank statement.

Kurogane released his son's hand with care, allowing him to drift over to the table and take in that hard and stern image within his father's eyes, demanding for just one minute to be heard.

Fye's eyes narrowed towards him questioningly, his lips held in an almost fearful and uncertain expression as the children's eyes began to settle on him.

"This is Fye," Kurogane said to them in Japanese, voice clipped in reluctance and gesturing towards the blonde stranger blinking in bemusement beside him. "He's staying here for a while."

He glanced towards Fye for a mere instant, registering the inquisitive glare he was receiving and pushing it aside dismissively, turning back towards his children and their young, confused expressions, their eyes staring in undiluted interest.

Fye bit his lip in frustration, almost frightened that he had no idea what was going on, but his attention was soon diverted, his expression and panic soothed as a sweet little voice came from his knees, a tiny tug at his jeans. He stared confusedly down upon Mio as she asked him a polite little question, her eyes beaming innocently. Her words meant nothing to him but he smiled nonetheless, softly and calmly, something pricking at his heart.

Her father answered for him. "Yes, he stopped you from chasing your balloon a few weeks ago."

Mio's face immediately scrunched up, turning to glare pointedly towards Fye, like a small creature nibbling at his shoes. Without understanding, he burst out laughing, voice singing delightedly and pleasantly, a free and amiable personality within. Her frown sank back into her face and her own smile lit up – precious and amused.

"Why doesn't he talk?" she asked her father, tilting her head and tugging at Fye's jeans again.

"He's German," Kurogane informed her, crossing his arms as if spectating and attempting to judge what direction this was all going in. "He doesn't understand Japanese."

"Why not?" Usui asked, frowning with a childish lack of reason.

"They don't speak Japanese in Germany, they speak German," he informed his son, surprisingly calm despite their constant questioning, so much so it was beginning to frighten Fye.

"Why isn't he in Germany?" Mio asked as she continued to play with the material of his jeans at his knees. Fye smiled softly as her stubby little fingers pinched and teased interestedly in a strange mixture of boredom and fascination.

"Because," Kurogane started… and then abruptly stopped. He'd never thought much about it before and had never asked – even if he did, he could tell that Fye would simply smile and brush it away with a single motion of his hand. Did it really matter what reasons he had for being here? He's here now… He stared towards his guest with a face full of suspicion and hesitance.

Fye raised his eyebrows, sensing the question in Kurogane's eyes, and turned away with a faintly cruel twist to his lips. Not telling.

Kurogane bit back a remark, fiercely whipping his head back round and proclaiming, "It's a secret."

"A secret?" Usui repeated with a slightly slack jaw, something desperately interesting within his young and imaginative grasp.

"Yes a secret," Kurogane said, repressing a groan. How the hell had he ended up in this mess in the first place… Quickly, mind jolting into a proper pace, he added with a thick layer of importance, "so you can't tell your mother about him."

"Mummy said we shouldn't lie," Mio suddenly exclaimed, waving her finger in the air to show just how serious she was being, because lying was a terrible thing … apparently.

"We're not lying, we're keeping a secret – it's fun," Kurogane corrected her in a morbidly gravelly and edgy voice that made the art of keeping a secret sound about as fun as dancing on a pile of sharpened tacks.

"What if we get asked if we have a secret," Mio pointed out, overly precocious, "then we have to lie."

"No, we say we can't tell them the secret," Kurogane informed her with a markedly more compassionate edge than usual, taking their bags easily in hand and making his way to the spare bedroom – Fye's bedroom.

Fye sighed, preparing to move his things back through to the living-room, until someone small tapped his elbow, standing on the very tips of her little toes. With a pleasant smile, Fye bent down and plucked the drawing she was waving encouragingly at him out of her hands, gazing upon it with silent wonder.

He turned to her, slightly confused but asking her slowly, cheerily and animatedly, _"Möchtest du meine Meinung hören?"_ (_Do you want to hear what I think about it?)_ He really had no idea why he was addressing her in German but it made him feel better to talk to her properly. Besides this warm little pool had started to emerge within him as it had slipped off his tongue, that realisation that he'd missed his own language digging painfully into his heart. That and she seemed incredibly interested now, her eyes gleaming in fascination.

She grinned, a childish smile filled with tiny and round little teeth, and said something else in Japanese, pointing towards her drawing scrawled across the financial details.

"_Oh, eine Blume?_" (_Ah, a flower?) _he exclaimed, a bright beam spread across his face as he pointed to the splodgy petals and the tiny stalk. He faked a gasp, a delighted smile slowly blooming. "_Das ist ja wundervoll!_" (_That's so wonderful!_)

He stood, hearing her giggle, and dramatically pointed towards her picture, declaring, "_Super!…Aber…_" (_Great! … But…_) His voice slinked delightfully, youthfully and he laid it down on the table with a flourish, picking up a pen. "_Da fehlt eine Hummel, findest du nicht auch?"_ (_It's missing a bumblebee, don't you think?_) he probed as he doodled, eyes catching, fast-paced and full of wonder, and finally lifted the piece of paper back up, handing it back to her with a joyous smile, soft, friendly and inspiring. She smiled in excitement, gazing gleefully at his quaint little scribble of a bumblebee by the flower.

"What are you doing?" Kurogane asked him in scathing and curious English as he came back through, Usui following him adoringly.

"Drawing," he smiled, pointing to Mio's artistic efforts.

She clambered up on to one of the chairs by the table, slapping the ruined document down with an intention and taking the pen back in hand. Fye glanced over her shoulder as she drew, hand wavering as she pressed a bit too hard, a bit too fiercely, and Usui scampered over, jumping up to see over the table and check what was going on. She brought the piece of paper up to Fye's eyes, holding it proudly and briefly explaining despite the language barrier – "It's the sun!"

"_Ah, die Sonne!_" (_Ah, the sun!) _he proclaimed, a smile equally radiant playing on his lips and his eyes sparkling as he looked at her drawing.

"The sun's long gone, Mio," Kurogane stated, scooping her up into his arms and lifting her with ease up out of the chair, "It's time for bed."

Fye smiled endearingly, picking up the pen and flipping it between his fingers as he watched him carry her off, kicking slightly in his arms and whining, his son scurrying faithfully behind them. He sighed, standing, beholding the family in awe, touched.

***

"You're so much a caring father, Kuro-tan," he sighed, perhaps not in perfect English but getting his point across nonetheless, lounged across the sofa, his head pressed into his hand, his elbow on the arm of the seat.

"And?" Kurogane asked sharply, feeling almost offended as he channel-surfed, bent forward, perched on the edge of the sofa with his arms on his knees.

"And it doesn't seem like you," Fye explained with his eyes closed, voice both soft and smooth, slipping from his tongue. When he opened his eyes they slinked over to stare towards Kurogane teasingly, his lips twisting into a playful smirk. "You're usually so… so…" He struggled with his words, pressing his fingers to his lips while Kurogane narrowed his eyes, glaring at him challengingly through the darkness illuminated in a sick wash of artificial light by the buzzing TV screen.

"What?" he asked, a daring and dangerous edge beneath. He smirked, cruel and lop-sided.

Fye smiled much more gently, a toying twist beneath the graceful curve in his lips and he lunged for his dictionary, long fingers flipping methodically through the pages. He landed on one word, pointing emphatically and decisively slamming the book shut. "You're very grumpy."

Kurogane raised an eyebrow, staring at him in confusion before picking up his own dictionary, placed reliably by his side and flipped through it roughly before coming to the right page. He frowned, gritting his teeth as he muttered, "Tch!" and threw the book aimlessly, only half-hearted, towards Fye, colliding with his shoulder and his ringing laughter, singing beautifully through the night.

_

* * *

_

_a/n: I'm baaaaack after ages =) But there was no way I was posting this until all my exams were out the way. A huge thanks to 'mon amie' for helping me with the German in the first place (my very helpful linguistically-skilled friend IRL ^^) and to maijame on livejournal for correcting it! Thank you to everyone who helped with my German last time and who offered to help again, it was just easier for me to use LJ mail at the time. So hope you're still enjoying this and please comment! Seriously, please comment, I have one or two things I might be posting and writing soon and it'll really help my confidence!_

_PS. Yes, my kiddy characterisation sucks -_-_


	11. Stealing diamonds from their homes

She came the next morning, slightly calmer than the day before and more perceptive as well. Her eyes stared widely as her jaw opened, slightly off-centre. "It _is_ clean…"

"I told you," he groaned, too pleased to see her face this early in the morning to brag. "Coffee?" he asked, pushing himself to be polite.

"Tea," she replied primly, making her way in regally.

Kurogane couldn't help but pull an irritated face as he slammed the door, making a resounding and aggravated _bang_ as it hit the frame. It hadn't taken her very long to return to normal.

"So where are the children?" she asked, settling into a seat, making herself comfortable without being asked and leaning her elbows on the table.

"In the other room," he replied as he flung open cupboard doors, praying that she wouldn't look for them.

***

Fye was sitting, Mio at one side and Usui at another, a pad of paper in hand and anxiously glancing over his shoulder towards the door every now and then as he tidied bits and pieces up, admired their drawings and their little pasta pictures – lacking glue, trails of pasta and macaroni taped awkwardly and deformed on to the thin, lined paper and messily scribbled over using the crayons Mio had packed in her bag. Carefully, he picked them all up, poking them back into place as the two children stared at him expectantly, thinking Fye was the most fantastically interesting thing in the world. He had very light blonde hair and very light blue eyes and he was incredibly pretty, thought the children with their young faces screwed up in consternation, blinking innocently as they beheld the German man.

He caught their gazes, smiled pleasantly and happily, neatly shutting the lid of the box and pressing it into Mio's fingers, her dark and keen eyes peering in awe at his. With a cheerful flourish, he pointed towards himself and then pressed his finger tightly into pouted lips, grinning warmly as Mio and Usui did the same, giggling as they did so, clutching at drawings and bags. He touched his finger to each of their noses in turn, their little secret, before they scampered through the door, waving their goodbyes, crying delightedly to their mother. The small girl stopped, turned back and peered back in at him, giggling at one last, final sight of him before thoughtfully closing the door.

He beamed thankfully even though there was no one to see him, tip toeing his way to the other side of the room in silence, unseen. He tentatively clutched the handle to Kurogane's bedroom, pushing it down, begging it not to make a sound, and crept in, hearing a stream of Japanese – childish shouts and adult conversation, parents speaking adoringly to their offspring… Fye closed the door with equal care and then flopped down on to Kurogane's bed, heaving a relieved sigh… although soon he started to tremble, shut his eyes and clutch himself, burying his face deep into the bed-sheets of a foreign man, sheltering him from the outside world, scared to be seen, scared to return…

***

It was half an hour before Kurogane came in, sat down heavily on the edge of his bed next to where Fye was lying, immersed in thought, a lovely smile pressed on his lips, and exhaled roughly before smirking, dark and satisfied. Fye pulled himself upright, edging into him, peering around his thick chest with an inquisitive grin, eyes slyly prodding.

Their eyes locked for a moment, deep red eyes held momentarily with a light-hearted air in a rare and frozen second before Kurogane flicked his head away, closing his eyes, that gratified smirk still hanging on his face.

"What?" Fye asked, eyes blinking in the darkness as his eyebrows furrowed in impatience, his good-humoured smile shining.

"They really enjoyed being here. They can stay every Tuesday night," Kurogane answered, vocabulary and grammar stiff and tight but his tone awkwardly elated.

Fye grinned, catching the meaning, understanding his reaction but unsure how to respond, placing a hand against Kurogane's arm, the starting day buzzing wearily in the background as he smiled towards him, hesitantly, beautifully pure and gleeful, but enthusiastically stating, "That's good!" His smile sank, tightening to form something much more personal and warmly content, removing his hand carefully as Kurogane turned to stare at it almost in bemusement, a friendly inquisition. Fye flopped back down on to the bed, now asking uncertainly, "Is this alright?"

"Is what alright?" asked Kurogane, a frown creasing his face again, his eyes narrowing back to their usual defensive state. Fye had to smirk endearingly.

"Should they know me?" he asked, raising his eyebrows, swallowing pure and whole breaths.

"Probably not," Kurogane admitted bluntly, his tone shifting to a positive note, "but they like you."

Fye smiled contentedly, lying on his back, eyes almost drifting away to somewhere beautiful… he sprang up, bouncing erratically off the bed and leaping towards the door.

"What are you doing?" Kurogane asked, that tiny moment of pure happiness lost, that usual and almost comforting heavy tone engulfing his voice again, sounding in gravelly shots and outbursts.

Fye turned, smiling peacefully. "I'm going to make breakfast. You can get ready for work." Fingers skimming over the door, he winked sharply, meaningfully, a great wealth of happiness rising within, remarking, "Daddy is a very busy man, right?"

'Daddy' only glared at him for a second, his lips twisting in helpless amusement, forming a smirk as he got up, closing his eyes, removing them of Fye.

He could still hear him singing joyously from the kitchen, a ray of golden sunlight through the closed curtains.

***

"_Oto-saaaaan_," they would shriek lovingly, running into his arms, held gratefully to his chest. And Renzu would watch, two-faced, unsure whether to smile warmly or seethe in jealousy.

"_Fye-saaaaan_," they would yell adoringly, tumbling into him like balls flying down a hill. Kurogane was never sure how pleased he was at their sudden liking for the man, knowing full well that he couldn't stay forever. Although it was very convenient having him around and, he had to say, that he was growing fonder of his company each day. Another nickname, a new joking insult, he shrugged them off. Except then that devious look would come across his face, those sparkling eyes watching him, plotting…

That mystery was hidden within Fye's skin. It attracted the children to him like magnets. Every week that they came over they would find something to do with him, all the time Fye babbling away in German, speaking slowly and deliberately, rolling his 'r's incessantly. They were oddly enthralled when he did that, repeating him hastily and enthusiastically, cramming the word together and mispronouncing it horrendously, forming some half-deformed blob of a language. And still, he'd smile, grinning sweetly towards their infectious youth, the complimentary parental figure to Kurogane.

At the time they sorely lacked a father figure in their lives – duller, protective, easily riled – and so they took advantage of their time with him, lavishing him with hugs and scrapes and drawings and stories.

"So I beat him and now _I'm_ the ultimate warrior," his son rounded his story with proudly, jabbing a thumb at his chest.

"Of nursery," Kurogane reminded him with his own kind of stunted and awkward smile, ruffling his hair dotingly. "You still can't beat your dad."

Usui scrunched up his eyes, fighting off his father's hands and complaining ardently, just as huffy and impudent as his parent.

***

"Did Fye-san do something bad?" Usui asked, flipping over and over in bed, wriggling and refusing to stay put as Kurogane balanced his sister on his knee, a story book clutched in hand.

"Why?" his father asked confusedly as Mio suddenly re-awoke at the mentioning of that name, turning about in his arms.

"Well he's not in Germany," Usui pointed out, waving about his arms, moving them back and forth fixedly, always following sternly with his eyes, to demonstrate, "He's in Japan. And he's hiding. He must have done something bad."

"Well he didn't tell me about it," Kurogane grumped, turning back to the picture book, settling Mio back in his arms.

"Liar, you're hiding him," Usui burst out accusingly, throwing off his sheets and latching on to his dad's arm. "Did he steal something?"

"Maybe," sighed Kurogane, relenting. It had been a long day…

"Was it diamonds?" asked Mio, eyes glittering like jewels in excitement as she shuffled about on his lap, making it difficult for him to keep a tight grip on her and hold the thin, floppy book in the other hand.

"Yeah, sure, why not…"

***

As it turned out, this was the most unbelievably, incredibly wonderful bedtime story ever. And it went something like this:

Fye was the most notorious jewel thief in Europe. By day he hid in crevices in the Italian coast and by night he stalked the streets, occasionally indulging in the odd luxurious evening ball where, naturally, he'd snatch the jewels off the female guests' necks with a penknife he kept hidden down the sides of his gem-encrusted boots. He owned a flat in Hamburg where he kept his plunders stuffed into the walls before selling on his exploits and giving the majority of the money to orphans (he didn't need much food, he snacked on canapés… whatever the hell they were). That was all until he fell in love with the princess of Russia (Kurogane had been tempted to correct Mio with prince but that was one thing he really didn't feel like explaining to them) and they ran away to Spain and made wine. But then her brother found them and he ran away to safety in Japan.

"Your mother's got a diamond necklace that she really likes. It'd upset her if it got taken so she can't ever know about him, got it?" Kurogane told them, a gritty tone held between anxiety and humour.

The two children giggled and grinned ecstatically under the covers.

***

It was a small flat with limited floor space and not much in the way of ceiling height but the children still thundered about the place, marking this home as their own and revelling in a new dimension. With two adults about, the havoc was slightly easier to manage, although it never helped with one adding fuel to the fire, the other acting as almost an incentive.

It was probably just one of their games: who could annoy daddy the most? All fairly innocent really when the two children were so young the best they could think of was to misplace his stuff now and then. However they were in awe of the king, the unsurpassed master of annoying daddy, even better than mummy. He could do it in one easy breath, lounging about giggling, their soft childhood innocence infiltrating his heart. And at the sound of one specific word said in one specific way, their father would physically explode, words and threats spewing like lava from his mouth, sometimes unable to contain his frustration and lunging for his neck.

Fye ducked, laughing insanely, a joyous trill, springing halfway across and around the room, bashing through the door and vaulting clear of the sofa. But just as Kurogane managed to pounce, latching on to his shoulders, smirking with a sinister and blood-thirsty, demonic and demented look burning victoriously in his eyes, Fye laughing almost gleefully, the children would grapple with his legs, breaking his thirst for vengeance momentarily. Usui would try to wrestle with him, fighting nobly for Fye's health - something pretty much in vain when his opponent could hold him off easily with just one hand, smiling and demanding a surrender, blunt tone buoyed by amusement.

"NEEEEVVEEEEERR!!!" Usui shrieked, the majority of his head engulfed by Kurogane's large, thick palm, little arms waving about in a furious blur.

Fye laughed sweetly, picking Mio up and admiring another drawing as she tugged at his jeans, too used to her brother's antics to be entertained.

Some days it was considerably calmer. Fye spent an entire evening once speaking to them in German about advanced mathematics while he cut out paper chains with them at a lack of anything else to say. He was speaking to himself mostly. They liked hearing his voice and he guessed it didn't matter what he was saying if they weren't going to understand.

Other days he baked for them, demanding certain ingredients of Kurogane – a deadly list the man wouldn't dare begrudge, looking into Fye's eyes, realising that infuriatingly happy smile had a dark undertone. Terrifying … and slightly unreasonable. Snatching the list, reading it over and grumbling…what was so important about baking anyway?

But it was like some sort of sensor bleeping in Fye's brain – he automatically knew that the kids would _adore_ it. Beating mixes, getting messy, chasing about your sister with the mix all over her hands trying to scrape it in her hair while she squeals … a sort of childish delight covered in chocolate, sweetened sickeningly with sugar and a result: mouth-watering treats they gobbled down greedily, not understanding too much, too little, just delicious, only fun… Fye always hung about with the remains of the mix in hand, licking his fingers thoughtfully as he wondered whether 'too much raw egg is bad for you' was really a valid lesson on this side of the world when it came to eating cake mix and cookie dough.

Kurogane rarely joined in, having no idea what to do with himself if he tried, leaning against a counter-top and watching the other three dash about, learning that anxious yells are a universal form of language. In the end, he sauntered off after making sure their naïve fingers hadn't been burnt, their clothes weren't a mess and that Fye hadn't accidentally set his kitchen on fire. It was strange watching someone else teasingly ruffle their hair, laughing sweetly as they got flour all over the place and picking them up and ushering about the kitchen, parentally edging them away from potential disaster, joyously carrying on, speaking in heavy and rounded German, a beautiful new sound in their ears. But still, now and again they'd carry bowls over, prodding their father proudly, coming to him with childish and curious quibbles and arguments and stories and once a sibling fight he deftly avoided, pulling them apart verbally and swiftly. Mio pouted at her brother, scurrying behind Fye in mild protest. He remained a neutral party, smiling thankfully towards Kurogane as he lacked the comprehension to deal with their squabbles. And strangely, as if stepping forward into a space Kurogane hadn't realised had existed before, he smiled, feeling the edges of his mouth rise for just one moment at the sight of the three of them together - Fye helping Mio with the spoon, batting Usui's hand away from the mix.

He didn't mind hanging about like a loose wheel – he got cake in the end, delivered with a sweetly young smile from his daughter, a cheeky and impudent grin from his son. He'd forgotten how much he'd missed them. And he silently acknowledged that salvation, his saving grace that had brought them back into his life, smiling blissfully, loose and elated as he hummed, washing spoons.

***

This lasted for nearly a month without interruption or anything to shift their steady pace of life, the world creaking on its axis as usual.

There was no way of denying it now – Fye was Kurogane's adoptive housewife. He cleaned, cooked, scrubbed and polished while Kurogane worked, entertaining the children when they came over… life was suddenly made easier for Kurogane. With someone else taking half of the stress and workload off his shoulders and giving him space to breathe, he could relax, allowing himself to stretch out, something calm creeping carefully along his skin.

Fye was invisible to the world like a wonderful magic trick. Close your eyes for a minute; open them again and Kurogane's life would be flipped upside down without any clear reason, suddenly reconstructing itself into something vaguely desirable. Renzu was astonished, staring to find a crack that might be a trap door or a secret compartment or even a mirror. But try as she might to fathom how Kurogane had managed to become clean, organised and responsible all at the same time in two months, it was beyond her comprehension. She'd met him as a rude, impatient slob and had married him as one.

And she was envious, bitter – expecting him to fall apart without her and then be forced to watch as he transformed himself before her eyes while she cracked, buried in a sea of commitments. They'd first met in university. She was studying law. He was studying engineering. A world where they'd still been young and free. But now she'd stepped her dainty heeled and polished shoe into the working sector, she'd suddenly become swamped, struggling against a divorce, a custody battle and the demands of mothering two young children all at once, showering her with work and more work until she felt like screaming.

She'd had to let him take the children. There was no other way about it. Just one night, she thought, one night and nobody's won.

Beer in hand, Kurogane smirked, wallowing into his reclaimed sofa. He was certain that it would be killing Renzu inside to relinquish her iron grip on their children, that she'd be going insane wondering who they might love more.

Fye should have been kicked out months ago but he had to admit that the guy was useful.

There came a point where he had to admit that Fye was perhaps more than useful.

* * *

_a/n: My attention to fine detail in my plots is abstract at best, I'm very sure engineering only came up because I asked my friend for a suggestion and went for it =) Sorry this hasn't been updating so quickly recently. Part of it's due to the fact that I really didn't like the chapter after this but it wouldn't make sense if I took it out. It should be okay now and I have a lot written after that so expect this to go much more quickly from now on. On top of that I have a mini-multi-chapter nearing completion that I MIGHT post soon. Hope you're still enjoying this anyways, especially since this is the diamond thief chapter =)_


	12. Getting to know you

Up until Fye had arrived at his flat Kurogane had never exactly been a valued employee, perhaps one who could be trusted to do a job and do it well but at the same time one who seemed isolated from the rest of the office. He was a bit restless that way, too snappy to be sociable, too intolerant of the things that griped him and so he spent most of his working hours sitting alone at his desk within a rectified social barrier. It had come as a slight surprise to have suddenly been given a joint project.

The news had been spreading that his temper had been improving and receding in the past few months. The initiative had been taken to have him work on the fine details with several of his neighbouring co-workers and Kurogane found himself approached by the babbling, giggly woman down the corridor about blue prints and sorting the arrangements out with a few others later on.

It was an arrangement he'd decided to tolerate mostly through boredom – shuffling out of his flat, wanting to see something else rather than the same walls and the same furniture. Boredom drove Kurogane to put on a different jacket and a different tie, feeling void of himself.

"Where are you going?" Fye asks, voice ringing pitifully through the evening air, deep and consuming at this time of year.

Kurogane's shoulders tensed for just one moment, something tweaking inside him before he hardened himself, turning to face Fye's eyes, young and bemused, a colour so light they were in danger of shattering. Kurogane frowned, grunting, "Out. I'm coming back later," and slammed the door, locking Fye away from him for one night.

***

At the time he'd supposed that he might enjoy a change of scene. Sitting in that restaurant, watching the world saunter by at a bloodcurdlingly slow pace, he felt something slightly more reminiscent – boredom. And perhaps loneliness. There was a woman sitting opposite him, babbling away personally and contentedly, but he didn't really care. He hadn't thought too much about deeper intentions or undesirable consequences when he'd taken up the offer, treating it solely as a matter of business. Unfortunately she hadn't.

She frowned as she clutched her wine glass, realising that he hadn't been listening to a single word that she'd had to say. Raising her eyebrows and tipping back her glass less than delicately, she shrugged that little, insignificant fact off and started again, this time ranting about vet bills or something. Using his limited powers of human perception, Kurogane judged that she was desperate.

Good for her, he thought completely unsympathetic, annoyed at the overwhelming politeness of his surroundings and the people about him. It was surprising that he hadn't blown a fuse yet but maybe his temper had been dampened by the sheer boredom pouring from the cutlery and the glassware and even the goddamn lighting. He took an attempted swig from an overly formal alcoholic drink.

How ironic.

***

As he opened the flat door he heard the TV, monotonous singing, words of no value – they dripped languidly on to the floor and were left there to wallow and rot, unappreciated and unheard. The noise was hollow, the kitchen dark, the multitude of city lights wandering in through the small window like uninvited guests. Warm, low lights crept sleepily from under the door to the living-room. Kurogane immediately reached for the handle, flinging the door open to discover another hand part-way to the door, slender and anxious.

Fye retracted his hand, his expression slightly pained, staring into Kurogane with a lingering gaze before forcing himself away. "How was it?" he asked as he fiddled with the computer, closing applications and shutting it down, his voice sitting uncomfortably in his throat.

Kurogane ignored his question. "We could drink and watch a film," he said, almost a question, speaking hesitantly and reluctantly. His eyes narrowed, judging Fye's reaction, how his lips came to settle thoughtfully, how his eyes dulled and brought themselves around to his, clashing softly and awkwardly.

Reaching into the plastic bag in hand, Kurogane produced bottles and cans, lining them up on the coffee table like bowling pins, and whipped out a DVD, holding it out for Fye to scrutinize.

His hands came forward, clasping the case carefully and intimately. As he lifted his head to face Kurogane, his lips drew themselves into a smile, gentle and warm, as he whispered in golden awe, "It's my favourite."

Kurogane raised his eyebrows.

***

Listening to that demented, heart-broken woman ramble on about fabric softener, Kurogane sank into thought – a dangerously rare occurrence. And in this sea of thought he discovered that he would rather be at home watching a black-and-white that he couldn't understand drinking beer with a German stowaway than sit here having a meal under the original pretence of a work-related discussion with this hideously annoying woman. This led to two further thoughts as she moved on to her new dish-washer – he'd barely given dating a single let alone second thought after the divorce and that he was unexpectedly fond of Fye's company. By now he knew him surprisingly well. The DVD cinched it.

And suddenly it became desperately important to spend more time with him.

***

"I felt abandoned," he sighed, playing with the small packets of sugar in front of him as his brother laid down a cup of strong, black coffee, lips expanding from an attentive smile to a wide and mischievous grin.

"So you were jealous?" he teased, eyes flaring interestedly. "How cute!"

Fye shook his head, brushing the last comment off with more a dull sense of acceptance imbued into his blood after years living with his identical half than tolerance. He placed his head on two fists like a mat and explained, "More rejected. The idea of him being with someone else didn't bother me but I was lonely. He was all I had at the time and I waited every day for him to come home."

His brother, the true Fai, clasped his hands together and pulled a face – blisteringly annoying, faking an 'aaawww'.

Fye smirked, laughing slightly, and turned his attention back to the packet of sugar.

***

What had brought Kurogane's sudden decision on, he wasn't sure but he was deeply grateful for it, feeling a resounding warmth, blissfully and ridiculously contented curled up on the sofa with this hard-hearted Japanese man. They had a slurred and stinted conversation, words slipping away from them either too easily or not at all, prevented passage and left to die there, rotting on the floor alongside the voice of crappy, low-budget TV. They'd only gotten slightly drunk, not taking it over the limit on a weekday night. The film flickered before their eyes, perhaps lacking gore and explosions but these familiar characters, these familiar scenes soothing Fye a little, breathing in an atmosphere he knew and loved, tracing a minute pulse. He only half-watched, distracted by thoughts.

When Kurogane came home the next day, hangovers deftly avoided or eroded, he suggested they take a walk about the area, going nowhere in particular really, just taking a walk.

Actually Fye was startled to begin with - he had become slightly agoraphobic in the past few months, scanning the internet for pieces of news, terrified that every eye outside would be searching, probing Tokyo for him, to wrench him from this tiny haven he'd obtained. By now he reasoned that there was no solid evidence that he was even alive, that he was being fed and kept warm by a stranger living in a block of flats nearly an hour's drive from the city centre. So there was nothing to be worried about in stepping outside, in filling his lungs with a different kind of air and widening expanses, talking to Kurogane pleasantly and getting to know him on far more personal levels.

The wind snapped agitatedly at their faces, leaves tumbling and playing their own crinkled melody as they skipped over the road, those streetlights hanging above their heads, blocking their view of the deep sky, poetically heavy in its own reaches.

It was a very natural thing, perhaps a progression. Their entire relationship had been centred around that flat, how it ran, how clean it was, who was sleeping there and where. In a way these short-lived, fleeting trips were a release, triumphantly kicking open boundaries. Fye smiled, his spirits elated as he stepped, dry and brittle leaves snapping meekly underfoot, a heart thrumming delightedly.

Kurogane was perhaps slightly less enthused, seeing far less of the consequences of his decisions, reacting impulsively to each and everything, drawing his jacket in tighter against the softened autumn chill, giving a brief reaction to Fye's contented chatter, buying him his own jacket the next day after watching him shiver slightly in his summer outfit.

After two months living together, he knew his size and his shape roughly enough to buy the perfect fit, a dull colour that high-lighted his pale features, those sharp and softened spots of colour about his pupils and his young cheeks.

"I have money," Fye uttered embarrassedly into the collar, whipping his head around to stare at Kurogane with focus in his eyes, golden strands falling loosely about the material.

The man merely shook his head, turning from both the sight of Fye and his question.

Fye frowned curiously, upturning the collar once more with a tightly-set expression.

***

The coat was well-worn through those days, growing steadily colder, a small chill rising in their bones as they talked through the dusk, voices resounding against the empty streets and the dull, lingering dusk skies, bouncing against walls with a dull throb or pattering down the pavement with a light skip, a playful twinkle beneath Fye's breath, mirrored in his eyes.

"I work with a company that does engineering," Kurogane told him after two months sharing a flat, a confined space, somehow managing to withhold their personal details for that length of time but now feeling their tongues awkwardly loosen.

Fye's eyebrows raised, the edges of his lips tweaking into a smile, clearly impressed.

"What did you study?" Kurogane hastily asked, as if he were evening the score that way, knowing him just as well as he knew him.

"Chemistry," Fye responded with a sharp and definite nod of his head, more like a cheerful bob. He walked with a skip in his step, elation sinking down to his feet, smiling contentedly in his own world despite his age and his size, a loose connection with the outside world, walls stained with recent rain, trees rustling amiably.

If Fye had shown any surprise at Kurogane's occupation then Kurogane surpassed it with ease – eyebrows rising higher than they were accustomed to, folding his arms and stating, as if it would compound the idea in his mind, "A scientist…"

"What?" Fye asked, turning around to face him, eyes slinking over to face him challengingly, sparkling beneath, a playful smirk sitting too comfortably on his face.

Kurogane shook his head, chortling to himself before scoffing, "You're not how you look."

Fye grinned, responding with a tone sitting between offense and humour, "You don't think that I could be clever?" He smiled warmly and widely, giving Kurogane a light punch on the arm as he refused to reply, telling him delightedly, a secret caught on a sly smirk, "I'm a geek too."

"A what?" Kurogane grumbled confusedly, thudding against the language barrier with a strong and resounding clang once more.

Fye threw his hands into the air, another word lost to them, a dramatic shrug, as he dreamily sighed, "_Schon gut_."  
_It doesn't matter._

Kurogane stared towards him critically, watching his naïve glee through his movements, through his smile, growing slowly aware of his enigma once more, taunting him from the shadows with a childish grin, a stubborn glimmer within his eyes. He was becoming steadily more aware of how little he knew about him, realising how surprising it was to discover, remembering those diamonds stuffed into his walls… "Who are you?" he asked simply.

Fye stopped suddenly, blinking in surprise as he turned sharply to his land-lord, that sweet bumble in his step abruptly lost. He placed a hand on his hip animatedly, setting a finger to his lips in mock and exaggerated thought as he uttered softly, "That's a hard question, Kuro-tan…"

Eventually he blurted, grinning brightly, "I am a German who came to Japan."  
There he goes again with that pronunciation – softening and shaping the country of 'Yapan' in his words, in his thick and smooth accent, accenting and highlighting peculiarly to form hybrids.

"Who were you?" Kurogane tried, feeling like he was bashing questions into an unresponsive machine, pressing for an answer without a hope in hell of receiving one, with no benefits to gain from trying.

Fye came to pace alongside him, a slow and reflective march, his slender frame appearing surprisingly hindered at this speed as he smirked, a mysterious and strange smile, a dark taint. "I don't know," he answered with a voice lain thick with secrecy, with shut doors and hidden lives.

And with only one look in his eyes Kurogane understood that he wasn't going to know either. His patience ran dry. He gave one deliberate and scathing stare then moved on.

Fye would remain a mystery for another few months.

* * *

_a/n: I hope this chapter's turned out okay, I made a few changes to it so it might not run well as it should? I did my best trying to fix it up at least. Hope you're enjoying this anyways =) And I'd like to say thanks a lot for all the lovely reviews on the last chapter, I wasn't expecting a response so large or warm so thank you to everyone who reviewed for their wonderful input and making me a very happy bunny ^^  
PS One day I will stop being biased and make Fye something _other_ than a Chemistry student!_


	13. Becoming family

She'd trundled into the room quite happily, bag gripped in hand, yanking it away fiercely and defensively from her father's reaching hand, clutching it to her chest, toddling into the room and shoving it on to the table, so small she had to stand on tip toe and push the bag over her head on to the edge. Mio then proceeded to pull out a chair and hoist herself up on to it as her father became distracted by Usui's latest show of cuts and scrapes and bruises, enthusiastically describing in detail how he got each and every one of them. She was rummaging in this bag, perched on her knees, when Fye came through, lightly stepping into the kitchen with a warm smile on his face. She caught sight of him and grinned, waving him over energetically and clutching at his hand as he came closer, smiling kindly and inquisitively. She pulled out various items, scattering them about the table in frustration, setting down her crayons and her crumpled pieces of paper down beside her with care. Saying something almost as if she expected him to fully understand, she fished out an item with glee and a tiny sense of achievement, her little hand balled into a fist. With a final flourish she opened her hand and dropped her gift into his palm. And all Fye could do was stare in confusion towards it, slightly worried by the expectant grin upon her face…

"Kuro-sama!" he called, his own smile wide and lop-sided, an awkward mixture of humour, surprise and panic, dangling the necklace in his fingers to show him, pleading an explanation or some help resolving … whatever was going on…

Ah so judging from that look of shock and realisation in Kurogane's eyes as he stared towards the necklace, he knew exactly what was going on.

For the next five minutes, Fye sat on the sidelines watching a Japanese play in action, the two siblings squabbling and shouting, the father eventually managing to silence them both to a certain extent and facing his daughter, having a stern chat with her about something so serious tears swam into her small and youthful eyes, not realising at all that what she'd done was so bad. And the father would send the brother a dangerous look every time he appeared to mock his sister's actions or joke around, causing him to take an appropriate step backwards. Eventually, as Usui got bored and went off to play with some toys he'd packed, loudly and excitedly, menacing the furniture, as Kurogane tried to reassure Mio that he wasn't angry, Fye came over, touching a slight and soothing hand to her shoulder, smiling forgivingly. She glanced up to him and then back down, looking toward her shoes, kicking and swinging solemnly on the seat.

"What is it?" he asked confusedly to Kurogane, frowning towards him, pressing for an answer, something he could understand.

Kurogane folded his arms, staring towards Fye and Mio for a minute with a look of consternation on his face as he searched for a way to explain in English, eventually giving in and fetching the two dictionaries, creased down the spines, from the living room. After much flicking and fumbling and ummming and aaahing, they eventually settled on the message –_ I told them you were a criminal who steals diamonds to make a story before their sleep_.

Fye blinked towards the single line scrawled uncertainly across a scrap of paper, a grin breaking out on his face, abruptly dissolving into laughter. Mio smiled sweetly, encouraged now by his delight, laughing with a full and genuine sense of glee. He eventually turned towards Kurogane, now smirking like a disease, infected by Fye as he smiled briefly and kindly towards him, close and secretive, his eyes flicking towards Mio. He smiled slyly and spoke in a light voice, just above a whisper, clearly audible and yet mysterious enough to make Mio suspect that something incredibly interesting or private was going on. "Tell her that it's very small. There are very big diamonds in London – that's my secret plan."

Kurogane gave half a laugh, relaying the information back to his daughter, a secret so painfully vital and important that she had to promise never to mention it. She nodded, head flapping on an enthusiastic hinge and her jaw dropped gullibly as her dad told her about the planned heist.

She shot off, running through to the other room to play with her brother under the gaze and smiles of the adults in the room, unsure whether they should be ashamed or proud. They shared that quiet and hesitant moment together, smiles still traced on their lips as Fye held up that necklace once more, dangling from smooth and tapered fingers, inspecting it under the light, watching it glitter. "Where is it from?" he gently asked.

Kurogane took it from his hands, showing no resistance, and clutched it in a considerably rougher manner although still showing due care, balancing it thoughtfully in the centre of his palm. "This is Renzu's necklace," he replied before laying it down on the table, allowing the chain to spill and pool on to the scraped and worn wood, the diamond glittering magnificently nestled in the haphazard pile.

Fye smiled softly, raising his eyes to Kurogane's and asked, "From you?"

Kurogane merely nodded, eyes dimming as he gruffly responded, "Yes," and sauntered out the room.

***

Mio had taken an obvious shine to Fye – something that lasted for years afterwards, even up to her teenage years when she'd sometimes come to Fye before anyone else, becoming semi-fluent in German over the years. Not a shabby skill by any means…

***

She first came to him with a problem in the second month after she'd met him. He was curled and tucked tightly into the sofa in the living-room, removed from his own bed and left to rest peacefully against the soft and worn upholstery, a soothed expression held contentedly against the aged material. Light hung limply over his body, pushing through the curtains, half-hearted and tired. And she tugged at a hand dangling smooth and fragile over the side of the sofa, clutching and yanking at the fingers, so long and pale compared to her own stubby little digits.

He blinked awake, pushing himself up quickly as his eyes settled on her, unsure what was going on. She continued to hold his hand, a meagre voice spilling sentimentally over ears unable to understand then climbed up on to the edge, his hand tucked between her own, clasping it hopefully, and laid down her head on a spare corner, falling asleep on the very edge of the sofa.

Fye sat up, hovering over her, tucked up in a tiny defensive ball, and shook her shoulder lightly, worriedly, with his other hand, whispering her name softly through the night. In response, she shook her head, muttering something in a sleepy and straining voice, close to bursting, flowing with tears. Her fingers tightened around his.

He frowned, holding her hand in return, watching her as she drifted away into sleep, unable to enquire or to help, simply able to calm her and send her to sleep. Maybe that wasn't enough. He sighed, smiling softly as he took her up in his arms, just small and light enough for him to carry, mumbling soothing words in German as she pressed her head into him, taking her through to the next room, prodding the door open with his foot. Carefully, he leant across the bed, climbing over the empty half, his knees sinking into the mattress intimately as he sidled over to the slumbering figure, nudging him with his knee with no free hands to use, chiming hoarsely, "­_Oto-saaaaan…_"

The man muttered something, shifting over to face him as he lay Mio tentatively down in the little space between the two of them.

"Mio said something. I can't understand," he explained in a sorrowful whisper. He gazed down sadly towards her, a face full of worry, bemoaning his stunted ability to help or hear her out. "She seems upset."

The father frowned deeply, propping himself up on his elbows, lifting over a thick and caring hand towards his daughter, mumbling inquisitively in a low voice. His eyes raised, sharp and judging, towards Fye's as she squeaked an answer into his ear, his gaze eventually breaking to smile soothingly and parentally towards the child. He answered Fye in a gruff voice, the matter settled, "Bad dream…"

Fye nodded in acceptance, a tiny, thankful smile gracing his face, a beautiful and gentle beam through the darkness, shuffling away from Kurogane. But suddenly Mio flipped over, an arm shooting fearfully out, hand coming to lie upon his retreating leg.

"She wants _you_," Kurogane explained half-heartedly, turning back over, settling back down into the recess he'd created within the mattress and closing his eyes firmly, strangely gentle as he softly returned back to sleep.

Staring at his back questioningly, Fye placed a hand over Mio's, laying down with an uncertain frown upon his face, feeling like a disgraceful intruder in this family's life – a family that had already been broken apart. As he sank into the mattress, welcoming and wide, taking in his body too easily, too gently, he shuffled a little closer to the two occupants of the bed – the little girl and the man, his back rising and sinking solidly and rhythmically before Fye. He wrapped a soothing arm around Mio, glancing towards her father in encouragement, caring and close, while she nestled into him slightly. He closed his eyes, warm and loved.

***

The alarm rang intrusively, breaking some unusually deep sleep Kurogane wasn't sure how he'd sank into, reaching up to bash the button, opening his eyes and finding a sight far from the empty sheets he'd grown accustomed to.

In his sleep, Fye's expression was held loosely, his hair gleaming lazily in the morning sun, reflecting dull beams as they dripped across his forehead, slipping down alongside Mio's pure black locks, her head held securely next to Fye's body on the mattress, a caring arm, limp and slender, draped protectively across her. They both breathed softly and unknowingly.

Kurogane sat up, smiling down at them helplessly, painfully close as Fye's eyes fluttered open, immediately shooting up to frown confusedly and sleepily towards the still, young girl next to him and the father smirking above him, almost an admission of emotion, a rare and precious glimmer of sentimentality.

Fye burst into a smile, spreading quickly and genuinely, words flowing prettily from his tongue, "_Oh-hai-yo_, Kuro-sama.

The father merely shook his head, muttering a steady and sharp, "Tch," like an unsuccessful mask, rising wordlessly, a slight tweak still playing on his lips as he left the room, slowly ripping apart that close and valued atmosphere of intimacy between the three of them, one they'd barely noticed growing, expanding with each breath in their sleep. Fye found himself smiling stupidly, the corners of his mouth rising elatedly as he watched Kurogane disappear, gazing dreamily at his back as it slipped behind the door… his smile slowly sank, realisation clutching fearfully at his chest, soon distracted slightly, surprised by the tiny, fragile figure stirring beneath his arm.

***

They sat at the bench, listening to the children's ringing laughter singing in their ears as they chased each other, scampering about swings and climbing frames, spiralling about the roundabout, diving and clambering up the metal slide, hearing their palms scrape and screech as they struggled, giggling and squealing delightedly. They kept them under watchful eyes, loving and attentive, as they smiled wholeheartedly, relating themselves to each other.

"Did you ever want to be a father?" Fye asked softly, watching the children scurry to and fro innocently and enthusiastically and a proud and contented smirk grow on his companion's face, sitting there with strange ease.

Kurogane glanced down at him once, his blue eyes sparkling curiously and lips curled amiably, before averted his attentions back to his children and admitting, "It wasn't an intention. Why?"

"You're such a good father to them," Fye sighed, clasping his head in his hands, flicking away a loose strand of hair sitting annoyingly against his lips. He smiled sweetly. "You're not how you appear too…"

Kurogane raised his eyebrows, his expression soon settling sternly, closing his eyes and stating, "I enjoy being a father. It's difficult not being with them every day like before but I couldn't stay with their mother."

Fye glanced over inquisitively, wondering if he would get an answer if he enquired as to why but by then Kurogane had continued regardless. "We knew each other and understood each other but we couldn't live together. We both enjoy control but we didn't know that when we married. I wasn't certain then either." He folded his arms and leaned back against the bench.

"Then why did you marry?" Fye asked, a frown on his face and a hint of confusion in his voice.

Kurogane smirked, admitting without pride, "She was pregnant."

"Oh…" Fye laughed, exclaiming with a wide and joking grin on his face as he poked him in the ribs, "You're terrible, Kuro-chan!"

Kurogane lazily swatted away his hand, a timid smile appearing. "But I stayed and I was happy. I don't regret anything." His eyes drifted over to Fye's, meeting as he calmly advised him, "It's not enough to feel that one person is special. It still might not work. Don't commit too young or too early."

Fye smirked, eyes slinking over to his and his words rolling off his lips teasingly, "Is Kuro-tan worried about me?"

Kurogane shook his head dismissively although not convincingly, asking instead as if to even the score, "Have you ever had that before?"

Fye frowned once more, lips forming a slight pout as his expression tightened, reluctant to answer but dropping his gaze, responding softly, "There was a history student. We were together for six months and then he left for Switzerland." He smirked, a gentle incline, a melancholy taint. "He said that I was special but I wasn't. I haven't seen him since then."

"So…" Kurogane sighed, forcing out the question, "you like men?" awkwardly, as if clearing an idea he'd been hanging on to as quickly, painlessly and casually as possible.

"Yes," Fye answered, smiling at his reluctance, reading Kurogane's voice all too clearly. Nonetheless he still added, "Is that alright?"

"Fine," Kurogane shrugged, merely pleased with this compounded fact, no longer a vague notion in his mind, the air about them clearing as they slowly revealed more about themselves to each other.

Fye smiled softly, gazing in a partially attentive dream with his head perched on his hands as his lips tweaked whimsically and endearingly, watching Usui attempt to push Mio about the roundabout. His young arms and legs were beginning to strain, betraying embarrassing signs of vulnerability for a kid his age.

Kurogane stood, a devious and entertained smirk twisting warm-heartedly as he rolled up his sleeves, baring strong and honed arms with an aura of fake determination, calling out in Japanese and heavily pacing over. One sharp shove and Mio was shrieking in both delight and fear, not quite sure where the world was heading to as every dissolved into a fast and sickening blur, Usui screeching in jealousy in the background, childishly tackling his father's legs in frustration. Kurogane simply laughed, tousling his hair in a teasing manner and then attempted to halt the roundabout before Mio fell off, trying to stand and keep her balance on short and uncertain legs. Feeling a little left out, Fye quickly scurried over, grinning like a kid and flopped himself, surprisingly dainty, upon the roundabout beside Mio. She quickly latched on to his arm, gripping something steady as she squeaked in giggly and giddy Japanese. Fye's eyes caught on to Kurogane's watching curiously, and he smirked, a challenge in his ice cold eyes, the corners of his lips curling daringly, something Kurogane couldn't ignore, muttering a sharp, "Tch," as his own mouth twisted light-heartedly, gripping the edge of the roundabout and giving it a strong push, throwing the piece of metal flying about its axle. Fye laughed wholeheartedly, simply, tightening his grip on the roundabout and Mio as he clung on to him as if she were scared she were about to be thrown into the sky but grinning delightedly all the same. By the time it had slowed to a halt and both of them were stumbling off, giggling childishly, Usui had picked up a ball he'd brought and was kicking it about with his dad, running at it full pelt, flinging a leg at it strongly and sending it soaring… or at least he thought it was soaring. It sort of missed his father and came rolling to a halt by Fye who awkwardly picked it up, half-heartedly drop kicking it and sending it somewhere closer to the wire fence than the father and son.

I thought Germans were good at soccer," Kurogane called out tauntingly, sauntering casually over with his hands in his pockets to pick the ball back up.

"I didn't like sports," Fye responded, sitting down beside Mio on the roundabout, adding, "especially not football."

"So what did you do at school?" Kurogane asked, retrieving the ball and giving it a sharp kick towards Usui.

Fye stared towards him for a moment, frowning in indecision, his lips twisting uncertainly as he paced over to the grass, stomping his feet down, checking for level grounding. He took a step and a breath, pausing awkwardly before making a dashing run, thrusting his arms down on to the ground and performing a spiralling cartwheel, diving into two front flips and ending with an awkward mid-air roll, landing sheepishly with his knee buckling slightly underneath itself but still square on two feet. He stood, grinning, to no applause, only a slightly slack-jawed audience, still in awe as he paced over strikingly ordinarily after his performance, coming to sit down next to Mio, who now thought he was quite possibly the most amazing person ever.

Kurogane was the first to break the stunned silence, chortling and commenting, "Not bad…"

Fye smiled towards him, shaking his head and responding, "But I can't play football."

* * *

_a/n: The more I post of this, the more I realise how strangely I've written it… and it's definitely not the thing I'm proudest of but I do hope you like it =)  
Also with the bit about marriage, I'd like to add it was one of those cases where my friend mentioned it or pushed me into writing it because it was funny but I'm hoping it didn't put the wrong message across. Kurogane only does what he thinks is best so rather than being irresponsible it's almost gentlemanly? I hope … please give me your thoughts on anything, they're much appreciated! This could include the proper romaji for 'Oh hai yo' Good morning ^^'_


	14. A day in Ueno

They didn't see the children for another week due to personal arrangements, school or nursery commitments, visits to relatives, their mother perhaps realising how quickly and how willingly her precious children were stepping away from her, preferring their father's company to the home she'd worked her fingers to the bone to rebuild for them. Regardless of the reason, it left a strange gap, the flat sitting quietly and undisturbed, lying in several consecutive dim twilights, dulling the surroundings as Kurogane and Fye lay about with nothing better to do than allow themselves to be entertained by the TV or a film rather than two hyperactive children, lighting the room and busying them with their youth. The quiet served a strange purpose though, unintentional and personal – a breathing space for the two of them. Without the children to distract them, they found themselves coming closer together than usual, talking to each other about themselves and their lives, little moments in comfortable surroundings in which to announce themselves, relate their stories and tiny facts close to their lives.

Fye hated wasps and Kurogane was allergic to cats. Kurogane went abroad once to America when he was a student and broke his wrist falling down a flight of stairs at the hotel after a night out. Fye went on holiday to Italy once when he was a kid and somehow got trapped down an old hole in the middle of nowhere. He was now mildly claustrophobic although quick to point out this only applied to incredibly confined spaces he can't get out of. That was alright because Kurogane got stuck up a tree once as a kid and broke his left arm trying to get down. Heights don't exactly faze him now but it was a bit of an awkward memory since he was only 6, before Fye was even born. The only bones Fye had broken were his ankle while he was practicing gymnastics when he was 13 and landed badly; another time, when he was 7 and going ice-skating for the fifth time before he ceremoniously tripped over himself, slammed into the ice and snapped two ribs.

"I've never been ice-skating," Kurogane responded with nothing more to say, no continuation to give or story to tell.

"We went every winter. There was a rink in the town centre that opened before Christmas. We spent hours there," Fye smiled, warmly and contentedly, yet with a melancholy taint, piercing back into the soft reaches of his memory, happy and innocent. "It was so much fun … not when I broke my ribs of course."

Kurogane raised an eyebrow. "We?"

And Fye blinked in mild fear, realising what he'd just been talking about, what revelation he'd come close to opening up to Kurogane and his lips tightened, pursing as he shook his head and fell silent.

Although to be fair Kurogane had never spoken much to him about his own family and didn't see the need to, didn't see the point. So there was no point in pestering Fye after details on his personal life when he was barely willing to give his own.

"We should go ice-skating, Kuro-chan," Fye suggested pleasantly, a sweet and distracting smile, a pressing desire to become closer to the man shining softly through, reflected in endearing eyes.

Kurogane smirked, a little twitch of his mouth, unprepared to tell Fye how little he'd want to try ice-skating or how strangely willing he was to allow him of all people to teach him.

***

"We never did get to go ice-skating," Fye sighed the next winter, breath curling into tendrils from his lips, arms folded on a bench by the rink.

"You didn't?" his brother exclaimed in mild surprise then grinned wickedly, cheery and cunning. "That would've been sooo romantic!"

"If it wasn't romantic when we went ice-skating then I don't see how…"

"And you could hold hands and spin about in circles with him holding on to you as you skated all the way through sunset and into the night," he continued, voice rising and sinking adoringly, mockingly, sitting between somewhere between humorous and an annoyance as a friendly joke.

Fye smiled. "Finished yet?"

His brother frowned, his eyes now narrowing, dimming seriously and reflectively as he stared right into him, every teasing edge removed and wiped away, before he finally averted his gaze, taking a long and pensive drag on a cigarette. He exhaled it all in a wide and steady breath, releasing something from himself before he revealed, "You've changed. I didn't want to say it before. I could feel it but I didn't want to point it out. Maybe it's a good thing, I thought, maybe he'll settle a little more into himself the more time he spends back home. But you've not, you went to Japan and you came back a new person."

Fye remained silent, stared towards him without uttering a word or changing expression, revealing surprise or discomfort, as his brother inhaled on his cigarette once more as if using it like a punctuation point, a form of structure in his speech, lingering before moving on to the final message – "He changed you. And then you came back, this new person indebted to him. You couldn't forget him if you wanted to. And I really don't know whether to be pleased or angry."

"I don't see how it could be a bad thing," Fye eventually told him. "I'm happier this way, I feel better about myself. I'm more confident and independent than I've ever been and I spend less time regretting or wanting things. This is better, I'm not even doubting it."

His brother paused and sighed, watching his ashes crumble and simmer away between his fingers. "That's why I'm pleased. It's what you needed. But you're going to leave us again. You're going to leave this country entirely. Every time you talk about him there's an edge of your voice as if he's the only man for you in the entire world, out of every person on Earth the one you'll love the most. And, you know, I'm happy for you, I really am, but at the same time I can't help but be worried and disappointed about the whole thing."

Fye bit the inside of his lip, slightly unsteady but soon burst into smile, stating emphatically. "I still don't know how it'll work out. I'd call you. At least once a week. And I'd email you all the time."

His brother smiled, smirking wistfully. "Yuui, if I were that worried then I wouldn't be letting you go full stop. Just get him and never let him go for me, okay?" He winked, a playful end, a light and knowing reassurance before returning to his dwindling cigarette.

Fye grinned, vibrant and hopeful, shining with gratitude, coming to stare happily towards the sky with a thoughtful rise in his voice. "You know, I told him my name was Fye."

Yuui smiled, reflecting on how strange it had been to hear Kurogane make the name his own, as Fai laughed, smoke spilling like clouds from his lungs.

***

"Are we meeting them later?" Fye asked perched on the bench, fingers tucked beneath his legs in the hope of warming them slightly, a light frown upon his face, uncertain as to whether he should be preparing to greet someone or if their tiny and disjointed clique of two would remain unbroken.

Kurogane tucked his phone away, frowning in frustration, biting it back as he replied in a bitter tone, "Probably not. I don't know."

Fye sighed, annoyed with this woman without ever having met her, his breath spilling from his mouth in small and gentle clouds in the frozen air, a borrowed scarf draped tentatively around his neck beneath thin flicks of hair. Finally, decisively, he stood up, energetically bounding over to Kurogane and latching on to his arm with determined enthusiasm, grinning optimistically as he declared, "We can still enjoy ourselves, right?"

Kurogane nodded lightly, a thin and awkward smile against his face, shaking Fye off his arm too casually for his liking, tolerating and accepting his cheer, even welcoming it perhaps…

It had been about five months since Fye had first set up camp in Kurogane's living room and by now he was a part of his daily life – breakfast, work, dinner, bed, children, divorce and somehow surrounding it all like a strangely befitting frame, setting it all into a vaguely pleasant new perspective was Fye. It was hardly surprising since he saw him every day, spent time with him more than anyone else, living with that smile, soft, probing yet acutely sentimental, constantly behind his door. He'd grown into something more than routine, something Kurogane depended on, all without knowing the true person behind his smile, the person he was before he arrived in Japan, who he'd been and what he'd become, what had driven him to the other side of the world. Their relationship had grown and morphed, flourishing delightedly as the months passed, shaping itself into something difficult to define – somewhere between friendship and a caring sort of … family thing… Kurogane had no idea. He didn't know where it could progress from there and he didn't know whether he wanted to find out or not. It would be difficult to say whether it could continue any further without anything beginning to strain, without them both opening themselves, spilling out their entire lives and worlds to each other. Even then what would that mean for both of them?

Kurogane was certain that things couldn't continue the way they'd been going for the past few months; not without changing drastically at the very least.

Yet there was something in his guts, in the back of his head, niggling, warning, instructing him to give Fye space, to allow things to come to pass and watch very carefully as they did so, judging at each step. He could allow everything to fall into place from there.

Fye was running from something and no one can run forever after all.

***

The trip to Ueno Park had surprised Fye, mostly because it seemed like the direct opposite to Kurogane's usual take on a day out. Kurogane would drag you to a more local piece of greenery and spend several hours in coats with balls and half degraded swings and climbing frames, taking casual wanders with Fye if it was only them, small and un-aspiring conversation as their entertainment within an unimpressive yet personal world. This place seemed a little grand for his liking. Either way that day, for the first time since he'd arrived in Japan, Fye D. Flowright (later to be nicknamed in a fitting play on words Fluorite by his colleagues) became a tourist.

He hadn't expected Kurogane to pay any sort of attention to the exhibits in the museum being too much a man of the present, unconcerned with the past, not seeing any reason or purpose in admiring its plunders and spoils, its stories and treasures surviving the years and shared with him, a link to a different time. Neither was he the type to try to interpret the depth of the world, admiring its many mysterious or scientific interests so god only knows why he'd even come to the museum. Yet he seemed entertained enough to follow Fye about, watching his small and attentive wonder, paying each and every exhibit a certain due care before moving on. Sometimes he'd ask question, others trying to engage in conversation but due to a distinct lack of vocabulary bar that learnt from films and DVDs, this soon gave way and caved in, replaced by something a little more light-hearted.

"I've seen enough ninja films to know when I see a _ninjato_, Kuro-puu," he said in a rolling voice, partly offended.

"You seem to know a lot about this," Kurogane pointed out in mild surprise, folding his arms and watching as Fye made his way about the weapons exhibit noting each sheathed or sharpened edge, each ornate and lavish hilt.

"Ooooh it's just little things that I've read," Fye insisted, waving his hand as though brushing away Kurogane's observation and then turning to grin, playful and devious, scanning him up and down. "Actually I think that you would make a good ninja. You're very dark and mysterious…"

"I'm what?" Kurogane blurted, confused at the sudden and random change of subject.

"Ah but you're too loud!" Fye sighed, crossing his arms, a ponderous pout settling against his face before he came to smile towards Kurogane again, immature and pleasant. "You could be a samurai."

Kurogane smirked, almost in an endearing way, for once accepting the joke and delivering his own. "And you like eating sausages and drinking beer, right?"

"_Natürlich_!" Fye exclaimed brightly, laughing, continuing to bumble about the room with an enthusiastic air, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst all of the silent and sober-faced visitors. "But you would be a good samurai. You're loyal and protective."

"Uh-huh," Kurogane mumbled, throwing his words over his shoulder without noting them, watching him as he absorbed the pattern in a decorative screen and then whipped his head about, staring and analysing him in a similar fashion, scanning him from head to toe, with a half-formed smile, commenting, "And you're a little serious and defensive… not to mention big and strong…"

By this point Kurogane was unsure whether he was just rambling in a non-offensive way or trying to rile him. Either way he didn't have much of a response other than to raise his eyebrows and ignore him.

And Fye usually responded to Kurogane ignoring him by poking him.

But he stood there, looking fairly unfazed, watching this joke deteriorate with a faintly melancholy smile as he passed the other exhibits, staring uncertainly into Kurogane from time to time as if wondering what reaction he'd intended to provoke out of him.

"Did you want to come here?" Fye asked, a gentle enquiry settling chillingly in Kurogane's ears, withholding a darkly cold edge.

"If I didn't then would we be here?" Kurogane pointed out, voice low and rumbling between gulps of food, homemade by the two of them, comforting in its imperfection.

"Well you didn't want to for yourself," Fye said, clutching his chopsticks in frozen fingers, turning a faint hue of red in the cold as he gripped them, carefully, precariously bringing balls of rice from box to mouth, bridging the icy air.

"Then who is it for?" Kurogane asked, avoiding eye-contact, staring off in painful knowledge of the answer.

Fye smirked, lips pressing tightly against each other as they twisted into a gleeful and victorious smile. "You planned to bring the children, _ne_? But that doesn't seem like you. Mio would have been alright but Usui is just like you – no patience and sometimes loud. He wouldn't like it. You wouldn't come here for the children. That's only your excuse."

Kurogane finally glanced over to him as he paused, savouring and swallowing a bite of food, a triumphant and contented smile pressed into his lips, his eyes slowly slinking over to meet his, softening and gleaming kindly. "You came here for me. You thought I would like it here."

Kurogane suddenly became absorbed in a thermos flask of miso soup, eyes turning to stare harshly over the winter scenery, the families and tourists flocking the park, trying to hide from his own thoughts there, blanketing himself with indifference. He was brought sharply back as Fye laid a cold and slender hand against his fore-arm, nearly causing Kurogane to splutter his soup, glancing urgently over to Fye, feeling himself shudder under his skin as Fye's fingers drifted slightly over his arm.

The blonde was staring at him, kindly, innocently, a faint devious rise in his lips betraying his intentions to snatch Kurogane's attention, although its shallow curve conveyed something more personal – gratitude. "Thank you," he stated simply, continuing preciously with a short, "You're right. I like visiting museums."

Kurogane nodded, muscles tensed awkwardly, and mumbled, "Good," nearly breathing a sigh of relief as Fye removed his hand, continued eating his lunch, a shallow and blissful smile, blonde strands of hair swaying against one another, a polite and silent little dance in the cold air.

His eyes raised, spying the thick clouds in the air as a single snowflake drifted lazily down, settling warmly and comfortably against his nose, melting against him, trickling down his nose in a quaint and humbled manner.

"Cold?" Kurogane enquired, a quick glance to the side as his companion huddled his shoulders against the snow, falling steadily and preciously between the trees, tiny beacons whispering, touching purely and innocently.

"A little but that's what soup is for, right?" Fye said, his voice-raised, grinning and snatching the thermos flask from Kurogane's hands.

Kurogane glanced critically towards him and his lame excuse. He still hadn't managed to acquire a taste for miso…

He packed away his lunch, setting it down by Fye's feet nonchalantly and removed his jacket, a thicker lining to shelter him from the cold. "I'm going inside," he announced, dumping the jacket by Fye's side and standing up, moving back towards the building.

He was gone before Fye could protest, before Fye could point out how caring he was, how sweet he was underneath it all and he would rile and stomp away. Slowly, deliberately, Fye picked up the jacket, far too large for his frame, fastening each button with loving care and patience, smoothly bringing his arms across himself, breathing in his scent imprinted into the jacket, lying against him almost as an assurance. Fye smiled sadly thinking about it all, he nearly laughed thinking about how perverted he was getting, cuddling himself up in Kurogane's jacket. He sat warily and acutely feeling a bubble of warmth, a small pocket of happiness rise within him, unsure whether to banish it or nourish it.

* * *

_a/n: I have two little things to ask this time. I've never been to Japan let alone Ueno Park so I have no idea what it's like or what's there so I hope I have it at least vaguely right. I was being a bit vague anyways =) The other thing was where Fye says '_Natürlich_'. I really don't know if that's 'natural' German or not so if I'm wrong or if there's anything he'd be more likely to say then please tell me! It should mean something like '_Of course_'._

_So as you can see, it's finally beginning to look more like a Kurofye fic! Hope you're still enjoying it and the children should be coming back in the next chapter =)_


	15. Secrets about the secret lodger

The way he sneezed was a little strange – a bit high-pitched for a young man and far too loud for someone with such a skinny build. It erupted and then rang through the flat like an awkward and sweet tune, somehow grating against Kurogane's nerves already fraught since he'd forgotten to set his alarm and then woken up to find Fye in a weaker state of health.

"I thought that I told you to stay in bed!" he snapped loudly, attempting to finish buttoning his shirt and arrange breakfast at the same time as the blonde figure appeared, hugging the door frame sweetly, limply and dejectedly. He was still in the old t-shirt and boxers he used as pyjamas and was a pale colour, an off-white like faded linen, a pale yellow that lingered almost pitifully against his limbs.

He smiled, grateful with a quaint little sparkle beneath his eyes, making his way over to get his own cereal as he protested in a hoarse voice, "It's fine, Kuro-tan!"

Kurogane sent a glower, burning with mild resent that might have thrown Fye off if he hadn't known by now that he was merely expressing his contempt for several of Fye's choices which may not be to his benefit and so was, in short, his own unique way of displaying care and affection. Fye sent a sweet smile in response.

Kurogane pulled his gaze away, scraping his half-formed breakfast into his mouth and glancing with anxious haste towards the clock pinned on the opposite wall. By the time Fye had sat down to eat his own breakfast it seemed as if he'd almost given up on hurrying and was now merely allowing things to wash or speed right by him. Watching him flick back and forth to sort himself out or collect several jumbled and misplaced folios and folders, Fye quietly tucked into to his humble breakfast, having never quite found the stomach for the Japanese morning and especially not Kurogane's idea of cooking breakfast. And when he'd finished his simple meal, setting the spoon down by the bowl with a needless degree of care and certainty, Kurogane finally came in, fully dressed, shaved, arranged, sorted, packed, organised, took one look at Fye and his red and running nose and sent a glare that would shift the bravest of souls running and crying back under the sheets. Seeing Fye just smile pleasantly and stubbornly towards him, a defiant yet soft air, he heaved a breath, set down his paperwork on the floor and snatched Fye's forearm, his palm fitting easily round it, ordering fiercely, god help him if he disobeyed, "Stay in bed."

Fye pouted, resenting the fuss but stood as commanded, flinching as Kurogane's heavy hand came to lie against his forehead, tenderly brushing away the gentle flickers of his fringe. He glowered again, a sagely wisdom about him, certain in his experience, that age difference rewarding him both knowledge and dominance.

Fye sighed heavily, his lips eventually perking into a small and childish smile, whispering cheerily in a degraded voice, "If it makes Kuro-chan feel better then alright." Watching the older man twitch slightly in surprise under the sweet relent, he springs out of the seat with a fortunate degree of energy, practically skipping into his bedroom, dragging out the sheet and setting up camp on the sofa, cuddling youthfully into the covers and plucking out an mp3 player, watching Kurogane glance uneasily towards the clock as he hovered above him.

Finally, unwillingly, Kurogane muttered to him, "You should have worn the jacket."

"I did!" Fye protested, eyes shining widely in annoyance and innocence before his shoulders bunched together, his chest constricted and he let out another sneeze. It reminded Kurogane of kittens.

"Yeah," Kurogane mumbled quickly, disbelievingly before his voice became louder, his tone hardened in authority. "Drink lots, rest, sleep and do little."

"I'm fine!" Fye chirped again with a convincingly beaming smile before letting out another sneeze.

Kurogane smirked, part way between endearing and self-satisfied, folding his arms and feet set uncertainly on the ground, trying to find a few more words to bark at Fye with only the best of intentions.

"Kuro-tan, you'll be late," Fye smiled, raising his eyebrows knowingly, his lips perking slyly as his voice rolled softly from his throat.

Kurogane only nodded, staring harshly towards Fye before the words passed awkwardly from his lips – "Take care" – and he paced out the room, hesitantly, as if wishing he could do something more. It melted Fye's heart.

He groaned to himself, flopping down on to his make-shift bed, feeling something that made his senses flutter, his nerves sing and his stomach drop chillingly, knowing this desire wasn't his to fulfil.

***

The answering machine buzzed faintly in the background, so unobtrusive that Fye would never have recognised the voice, grumbling, snapping and stopping then considering itself during a pause, if he hadn't realised it was projecting English for a change. He came through quickly, feet battering the carpet in curious haste, making his way to the box tucked into the corner, a thick wad of bills and forms lying to the side of it in rejection.

"I'll say it again. You probably can't hear. It's Kurogane. You can answer the phone," the voice grumbled and rolled from the speakers in a tone between desperation and nonchalance.

He reached for the phone, lifting it to his ear with a confused frown set tightly on his brow. "Kurogane?" Fye asked tentatively, pausing, suddenly worrying if he'd made a mistake hearing those noises, strange and unfamiliar pushing through the phone line, noises of other people, of buzzing computers, ringing phones and chatter. "What is it?" he asked slightly worriedly, awkwardly conscious that this was the first time Kurogane had tried to contact him.

"How are you?" Kurogane finally asked him, his tone lowered sternly, assuring his concern, asserting a purpose.

Fye sighed, though his breath fell both wearily and dreamily. "It's still fine." His lips curled, small and tight into a smile.

"Good," Kurogane responded curtly, offering no more, just an uncertain silence drumming uncertainly on.

"How is work, Kuro-_liebchen_?" Fye sang down the line, twisting the cord in his fingers, unsure how he would react to the German, whether he would realise he was now Fye's _darling_, the man he would gladly fawn over in a manner which was only partly a joke.

"Alright," Kurogane grumbled and then snapped, "What was that?"

"What did you have for lunch?" Fye asked, leaning against the wall, spurting quickly as Kurogane made to reply, "Was it nice? Where do you eat? What is your office like?" He tilted his head, pacing slowly and thoughtfully as the man made his spluttered response.

"Tch!" Kurogane spat with weary acceptance down the line, seeing the angle Fye was taking on this. "It's all fine too." And promptly hung up.

Fye was left standing there in the kitchen, twirling the cord about his fingers with only half the jubilant and childish enthusiasm he might have contained several months prior, a melancholy smile drawn on his face instead, a heavy sorrow lying gladly against his eyelids.

***

That weekend Kurogane faced the typical character dilemma of any movie-hero.

"I know this is really short notice but Usui wanted to invite a friend over and I completely forgot. Would you be able to take him as well?" Renzu asked with her best pitiful look.

Option 1 – Take in kid and face the danger of Fye's cover being blown… and also his for letting him stay there secretly  
Option 2 – Turn down kid and appear very cruel, unfair and suspicious

............

He went for option 1.

***

Even as he tried vainly to think of a way to introduce Fye with minimum pain or trouble, his plans were foiled, his kids ducked and swooped under his arms screaming his name, careering into him as he entered the room, a cheery smile against his face. Although it slowly sank, a shallow look of curiosity, a mildly fearful frown pressed into his forehead as he stared towards Kurogane and the other kid beside him, already registering two young and excitable little people tugging at his sleeves, trying to snatch his attention, grab it, run and keep it all for themselves.

"He's a friend," Kurogane admitted reluctantly, watching as Usui forced himself into the conversation, proudly taking hold of well-mannered responsibilities, gesturing towards Fye and announcing his name.

Mio clarified the situation for him, turning to the boy and informing him slowly and sternly, nodding severely, "He's a _Geh-heim-nisss-eh_."

Both Kurogane and the kid blinked confusedly and Mio grinned to them like the meaning was perfectly clear. Fye smiled a brief, quick grin, translating quickly into English, "A secret."

"Have you been teaching them German?" Kurogane asked, still frowning in slight confusion, uncertain as to how he was supposed to feel about this strange criss-crossing of people and events in his kitchen.

"She learnt it herself," Fye stated uninterestedly with a dismissive wave of his hand as though avoiding elaboration, turning against Kurogane to face this new child in their vicinity, crouching down to his eye level and asking in a voice so kind and friendly that it transcended the language gap, "_Wie heißt du_?"

The kid blinked confusedly, a small and innocent blush marring his face as two blue eyes sparkled warmly and patiently before him. Usui gave him a nudge, a cheeky grin, a hasty whisper into his ear, somehow understanding Fye perfectly without even being able to interpret a single slow and steady word.

"Kamui," the kid eventually stuttered, his blush only deepening as Fye smiled towards him, growing smoothly across his face to form a perfect and kindly shaped curve.

"Kamui-kun," Fye repeated, underlining it, emphasising thickly with his German accent and then placed a hand to his chest just as on the day he met Kurogane's children, grinning softly and warmly as he said in a voice, gentle and understanding, "_Ich bin Fye, freut mich_."

The little boy smiled gleefully, small and sweet, before he was dragged off by Usui to find something exciting to do, leaving the two adults and Mio who soon scampered after them, adamant to try to join in with their boyish games.

Fye smiled once towards Kurogane before returning to the computer, leaving the air to settle about them.

***

Kamui was forced to run through every emotion that the other children had previously felt upon meeting Fye within the span of about 20 hours. To begin with he was incredibly ecstatic and tailed him with a curious zeal, trying and failing to start up a conversation although he silently relished the small and friendly smile that Fye would shoot him almost like an apology. Usui would eventually find him and drag him back to their games with an incredibly snappy and whiney tone that reminded Fye so much of his father he started to laugh, watching the children go about their ways with marked innocence and fascination. The curiosity was understandable – it wasn't every day that Japanese children met Europeans in such a close and personal way. Even Kurogane had found the golden sheen of his hair, the glittering pale of his eyes, silently remarkable, as might some Westerners as well.

The second stage was a sudden desire to get to know him, to please him and to listen to him speak German. He'd snatched the ideal opportunity with eager hands when Mio had suddenly taken to drawing cats in the kitchen with her trusty 20-colour crayon set and Usui had designed a few dinosaurs to gobble them up by making the pieces of paper attack each other, scribbling the cat with red crayon and only being halted when Mio attempted to cram a crayon in his eye-socket and they had to be separated by their father.

"_Sehr schön_," Fye practically breathed into the air, his smile widening gracefully and his eyes glowing in remark as Kamui showed him his own dinosaur drawings. And Kamui had no idea what that meant but it sounded good so he grinned a little childish smile and plonked back down on his seat with a wad of paper.

Eventually admitting to the presence of a forbidding language gap, he soon turned to the father for details. "Why is he here?"

"He steals diamonds!" Usui proclaimed, stabbing the air with his blood-red crayon, throwing it up with a youthful enthusiasm like a triumphant blade.

Kamui's eyes widened gullibly.

"But then why is he with your dad?" he asked with a frustrated frown, unable to see how this all fitted in.

"He needed somewhere to stay so I let him stay a while," the father revealed without a grain of the previous drama, a gritty reality in his words, too dull for a child's eye to behold.

"How do you know a diamond stealer?" Usui pouted suspiciously, eyes narrowing to an unthreatening glint.

"I don't know him," Kurogane admitted, shooting a sharp and stabbing stare towards Fye although he could only blink back innocently, unaware that Kurogane was referring to the blank and empty void of personal information between them.

"So why is he here? You can't speak to strangers," his own son warned him with a loud and severe voice.

Kurogane smirked proudly, staring steadily as he leant against the kitchen worktop, trying to conjure an explanation.

"My mummy said that when two people live together, they love each other very much," Kamui suddenly announced, smiling with clueless innocence.

So clueless he couldn't understand why the man suddenly spluttered, jumping forward and spurting out, with a finger thrown towards Fye, "You think that we're…"

He quickly got a grip on the situation, staring sternly down on the boy with his arms folded and his teeth gritted. "Well your mother's wrong, kid."

"Yeah, dad lived with mum but he didn't love _her_," Usui pointed out smugly, unknowingly ripping an awkward hole in the atmosphere.

Kurogane heaved a breath and took a seat at the table, letting the legs scrape across the floor with an irritating screech and came to stare seriously at them both, arms folded on top of the table. "Sometimes people stop loving each other," he informed Usui as gently as he could, wishing he could avoid this topic and everything about his ex-wife at the moment. "I loved your mother when we lived together but things changed."

"Why did you stop loving her?" Usui asked him with a frown, complications suddenly lying beneath his young fingers.

Kurogane closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, feeling those damn complex and personal emotions too, blurting quickly, "There are a lot of reasons and they're hard to understand. It was difficult for us to be together and now it's all sorted."

"But…" Usui was about to protest, a weak tone overcoming his voice for a first time, eyes blinking sadly in confusion as he found a contradiction – his parents' current unhappiness. But he was cut off by his father in his desperation to clarify the situation to Kamui.

"I don't love Fye," he announced to Kamui, uttering each syllable like a bullet point. "I live with Fye right now but I'm not in love with him," he repeated, feeling an awkward squirm in his spine as he uttered those words, strange and foreign in his mouth.

"Maybe you don't know yet! I saw a film and there was this man…" Kamui started to divulge, eager to defend his theory but he was bluntly stopped and halted.

"No," Kurogane announced, shaking his head. "It doesn't work like that."

His eyes awkwardly skimmed over to Fye, watching their conversation curiously, hearing both his name and their emphatic statements, his lips smiling questioningly before he asked, "What is it?"

Kurogane shook his head, closing his eyes dismissively. "It's nothing."

***

Less than a month later Kamui went over to play with Usui at his mother's house only to find him curled up in a huff, knees brought to chest, arms wrapped protectively around them and a pout headlined with a deep frown upon his face.

"What is it?" Kamui had asked, slightly dismayed to see his friend so upset.

"Fye left," Usui mumbled angrily.

Kamui blinked once, faintly upset, opened his mouth to speak and was cut off by Usui, yelling bitterly and confusedly, "Dad lied! He loves Fye! He kissed him! I saw it!"

Kamui was silent for a moment, trying to figure out what this meant, if it meant anything at all. "Is he coming back?" he eventually asked.

Usui's expression calmed for a second, relaxing as his eyes drifted over to his friend before tightening again, frowning down to the ground and announcing huffily into his knees, "Maybe."

* * *

_Edit: I think there's been a little confusion about the last section! The next chapter will continue from when they're at Kurogane's flat; it hasn't skipped to Fye leaving! It's a flash-forward like the previous ones with Fye talking to his brother._

_a/n: And all of a sudden there's a Kamui! This was actually a bargain I had with a friend, I include Kamui and Subaru and she writes more of her own fanfiction. So far no fanfiction -_- And I wouldn't get too excited about Subaru because 1) I've not written it yet and 2) it might be as little as a brief mention, it depends on how important I see it when I get to it. So apologies for the late chapter! I've been trying to make a deal with myself that I'd post a chapter whenever I finish writing one further ahead and that failed magnificently. It's getting very hard for me to write, especially since I'm near the end of it. But really I'm going to try my best with it. It's mostly reviews that get me, I just can't deprive anyone of an ending! ^^ So if you'd like me to get on with it my best advice would be to just say so! Also I stole my friend's sneeze to write this chapter. She doesn't know yet… yes, it does remind me of kittens – it's like a really high-pitched 'Choo!'_

_P.S. WAS THE GERMAN OK? Didn't get much of a chance to send an email out to anyone so I was relying very heavily on dictionaries. With '_Liebchen'_,_ _I really don't know if anyone uses that but if it's old-fashioned it might still be okay here, I mean it's just a joke. It's '_sehr erfreut' _I'm worried about mostly!_


	16. A bucketful of misunderstandings

The matter unsettled Kurogane a little, finally feeling a silent emotion lingering at the bottom of his guts as they sat on the sofa, the volume down low on the TV. It was small and it was indescribable. It was so unnoticeable that it barely mattered as he scribbled simple Japanese on to a pad of paper with a pen, long lost in the drawer of the tabletop, still home to a variety of potentially useful and ultimately useless junk.

Fye held his fingers up, pensively and deliberately uttering each word with a thoughtful look in his eye. "_Ichi, ni, san, yon…_"

"_Go_," Kurogane prompted him.

Fye nodded, picking up the pad of paper and delicately inscribing the numbers out in Japanese, careful and controlled flicks and lines flowing from the pen. He set it down and smiled towards Kurogane as a starting signal.

Kurogane closed his eyes, as if this brought the words to mind better, with a thoughtful frown. "_Eins, zwei, drei… vier…f-unf…_"

"_Foonf_," Fye corrected him politely, explaining lightly, "the umlaut makes it sound like 'oo.'"

"Were you good at languages?" Kurogane asked curiously, taking in the interest, that slight content smile on Fye's face as he pored over the Japanese symbols, committing each to a special place within his memory.

"Mmmmm they weren't my best subject," Fye admitted, lifting his gaze to meet Kurogane's through the dim light, a world dulled and silenced to allow the children in the other rooms rest. "I was quick to learn but it wasn't as natural. But I know someone who is very good at languages."

Kurogane raised an eyebrow, gazing towards him. "How many?"

"Three," Fye said with a reflective sigh. "And he's learning two more. I don't know why he wants to know Chinese but…" His eyes suddenly dimmed and he paused, shutting his mouth and allowing a painful silence to run through the room, eating away at them before he took a breath and continued in a whisper, "That's what he's like…"

Kurogane leaned forward, looking straight into Fye's eyes, feeling a sudden urgency about the moment now that he realised he'd struck a nerve, but Fye warded him off, a sudden and cheerful grin flicking onto his face at a heartbeat, a defensive barrier, eyes glinting in the pale light from the table lamp almost forebodingly, pressing Kurogane to keep a strict distance. And it didn't matter if Kurogane wanted to try this time or not, wanted to force the words straight out of Fye's mouth and into that unsettling void, the only gap between them, because Mio came trundling through the door, only half-conscious, stumbling into their knees.

"I want to stay up," she mumbled through a gaping yawn, blind to her own boundaries and her father laughed and scooped her up in his arms as she scrunched her eyes shut, attempting to drive off sleep.

"You need rest," her father encouraged her gently as she settled down on the sofa between them, nestling her head into the cushions and blinking fiercely. She shook her head with a determined pout, black strands of hair waving about her face.

"I want to stay here," she mumbled, folding her arms and refusing to budge.

Her father frowned for a moment with an endearing smirk playing lightly on his lips, glancing over the clock and assessing his options. "How about you get a story and then go to sleep?"

"Can I sleep here?" Mio asked, laying a sleepy head and tired eyes on her dad's lap as he clamped a heavy and caring hand on her head.

"Yeah, sure," he muttered, laying the pen and paper to the side, ending their impromptu German and Japanese lessons. His student gave a small and stifled yawn, burying himself into the sofa, relaxing into the still night air.

"Which story do you want to hear?" he asked, fulfilling a father's duty, almost certain he didn't know any but feeling that the intention was what mattered the most, the willingness to entertain and take care of the little girl already halfway to sleep.

"Fye," she mumbled simply with her eyes closed, her hands balled into soft fists.

Beside them Fye raised an inquisitive eyebrow, smiling softly towards the father and daughter, heart spilling softly and fondly, touched.

Kurogane's eyes met his for a close moment, personal and strangely profound, and then he said in English, "I need a story idea."

Fye smiled again, his lips perking enigmatically, rising gently and he whispered in a voice beautifully mysterious and soothing, "There was once a ninja…"

Kurogane smirked, throat producing half a chortle as he shared a small joke with Fye and then started to spin the story, half-baked, nonsensical… "So the diamond thief is in a lot of trouble and then one day he meets this ninja in Paris…"

"Why is the ninja in Paris?" she squeaked quietly, mind slightly blurry as she curled up against her father.

Kurogane frowned and looked up to Fye. "If the ninja is in Paris…"

"He enjoys cheese," Fye answered, lies and creations flowing easily from his mind. "They have excellent cheese in France. All kinds of cheese."

"Okay," he said, almost smiling, turning back to his daughter and putting his story-telling voice back on, harsh and low, reassuring her to sleep. "The ninja is looking for a special kind of cheese in Paris because there's lots of cheese in France. And he's been searching for this cheese for a long, long time. But he meets the diamond thief and he's heard that he's in trouble. It's a sort of common bond in outlaws. So when he meets the diamond thief he asks him if he wants somewhere to hide and the German thief says that he would really appreciate that. So the ninja shows the diamond thief this secret tunnel that he'd been using for cheese hunting and says that if he keeps walking then he'll walk right under Switzerland. And the ninja also tells the diamond thief to hide in Japan because the prince of Russia … can't swim. And is scared of boats."

"Planes?" mumbled Mio with more of a sleepy sigh than a voice.

"He gets travel sick. So the diamond thief makes it to Switzerland without being seen and…" He looked towards Fye for help, asking, "How did you travel here?"

Fye thought for a moment, pressing a finger softly to his lips before smiling, before shuffling over to the little girl and whispering softly, her eyes lying loosely shut. "I cycled to Hannover and there was a man with a plane there. I asked the man if he could take me to Japan but he said that his plane wasn't fast enough and he did not have enough fuel. So he took me to Greece. And when I went to Athens there was a woman with a boat there. I asked her if she could take me to Japan. She said her boat was too small and did not have enough fuel but she could take me to India. And in India there was a kind man with an elephant but he only had enough food for the elephant to take me to the mountains. I met a man there and he took me to the very, very top of the mountain where he had a glider that only needs wind. And he told me that if I flew straight in this direction, over the mountains, over the Great Wall of China and over the sea then I would arrive in the beautiful city of Tokyo."

Kurogane touched a hand to his arm, breaking him from his story without translating a single word. He nodded down towards Mio, fast asleep, far away from the world and floating without care somewhere deep and wonderful. They shared a quick, knowing look before covering her with Fye's bed-sheet and retreating from the room, pressing the light switch with a silent wish goodnight.

***

It had only struck Fye when Kurogane had tucked Mio in for the night, laying the blanket over her protectively – he had intended for them to share a bed for the night. Usui and Kamui were sharing Fye's bedroom, Mio had been sleeping on Kurogane's bed while they were in the living room, but now she had shifted through to the sofa there were only two spaces in Kurogane's bed left. He'd never even mentioned it, merely climbed naturally and wordlessly under the sheets, leaving Fye standing at the side, heartbeats throbbing loudly, felt awkwardly at his fingertips. Without a sign or encouragement, he lifted the sheets, somehow feeling a monumental significance within such a small act as his legs slid under the covers and his head came to lie delicately upon the pillow. He'd slept in the same bed as him before but he'd been half-asleep, barely recognising his presence with Mio between them, the cover beneath them, feeling markedly separate from Kurogane. Under the sheets, lying warm and comfortable in a strange bed, his presence was much more noticeable, his small shifts and movements of a greater significance, felt under the mattress by Fye's body, something close and painfully intimate. His eyes refused to remain closed, flickering open softly and shyly to gaze momentarily towards Kurogane's solid form, already lying deep in sleep. The sight caused him to fear a little, to feel every pulse of his body in almost agonising depth and detail and feel guilt rise within him with no way to control it. His breath dragged awkwardly no matter how much he wished it to remain shallow and silent, feeling the air dragging into his lungs nonetheless and exhaling deeply, feeling as though it were disturbing something precious and fragile as he lay there, as if it made the deep and fast pace of his throbbing heart achingly obvious. Slowly, guiltily, he attempted to settle into his bed, swathed in an emotion, close, warm and fearful as his heart played strange tunes in his chest.

***

"Fai!"

He felt the name spilling from his lips, erupting from his throat as he woke, taking a breath, his eyes suddenly absorbing the world, hand connecting to skin.

He flipped to the side suddenly, retracting his hand from Kurogane's face, muttering hastily, "Sorry, I must have quickly turned," as he saw the figure stir slowly and clutched at his hand with a disbelieving expression, noting bluntly that he was trembling slightly. He smiled, soft and reassuring, towards Kurogane whose eyes were wide open and trying to ascertain whether he should be concerned that Fye had been tossing about in his sleep and inadvertently slapping him.

Fye sighed and settled back down, lying on the pillow stiffly and gazing towards the ceiling with fixed certainty, avoiding eye contact. "It's fine," he said, a small smile pressed to his lips.

But he could hear Kurogane shift a heavy breath, felt the hand placed concernedly against the top of his arm, tiny waves of excitement running along his skin from the source, causing him to go wide-eyed and shudder, and took note of his voice creeping steadily into his ear, sitting within him awkwardly and dearly. He asked, "Have you slept with anyone before?"

"_What?_" Fye immediately gasped and spurted, turning suddenly and fearfully to gape at him. He calmed slightly, noticing the bemused look on Kurogane's face, feeling his heart-beats race each other in his chest. "You mean to sleep _beside_ someone … like now?" he eventually stumbled, a nervous skip of muted laughter to his tone, a light tweak in his lips.

Kurogane nodded, a confused frown etched against his brow, and Fye sighed a relieved breath. He started to laugh lightly at the irony with his eyes shut.

"There's a difference?" Kurogane asked, beginning to wake slightly, leaning over and asking with a hint of worry lying in his tone, "What did I ask?"

Fye looked over to him, staring towards him with a pleasant smile for a quiet moment, smirked light-heartedly and admitted, the remains of a nervous tremble mixing with humour, "If I've had sex."

By the pale colour Kurogane turned, by the sharp nod he gave and the slightly unsettled laugh, Fye judged that he didn't know the euphemism.

"And I have but just not very often," Fye sighed with a contented smile gracing his lips preciously as he turned back into the pillows, burying himself softly, his back to Kurogane.

He chortled quietly, a low rumble, a grin on his face, "What? Sleeping beside or sleeping with someone?"

"Goodnight," Fye said, deftly cutting off the conversation, shutting his eyes tight, barring the world from entering his consciousness.

Kurogane replied, "Tch, goodnight," and it sent one last unwilling tremble along Fye's chest.

***

He was the second to wake up. At first he stirred slowly, shuffling slightly and gently beneath the covers with his eyes pressed shut, half way to opening as the alarm rang in his ear, drilling into him, breaking any ties with sleep and dreams he still held close to him as he lay there, swathed comfortably in covers and gentle springs, yielding to each touch. He was abruptly awoken, forgetting where he was, when Kurogane reached over him to switch it off, a sudden sinking to one side and a large form hovering above. He took a breath, eyes thrown wide open in surprise as Kurogane shifted back over to his side, a man who moved quickly from sleep to full-consciousness, two feet already swung over the side of the bed.

"Good morning," Fye smiled, memory jolting into form, reminding him of his situation, of the shared bed and the children asleep in the other two rooms.

"_O-ha-you_," Kurogane muttered politely, glancing over to him with a look warmer than usual, an almost steady acceptance and a faint glimmer of gratitude, Fye's presence kindly distancing Kurogane from those recent months, alone in bed, the other half remaining pitifully cold.

He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes running over and taking in Fye, still lying beneath the sheets, his eyes only loosely open, rimmed in a vaguely content but hazed glow, his hair seemed to shine in the sunrise, rivalling the golden beams of the sunlight dripping luxuriously through the window. He gave a deep yawn, his arm rising slowly and without rush or care to cover his mouth, shining a smooth, soft pallor in the dark.

"Did you sleep alright?" he asked, a reluctant gruff, edging out of his throat with an ounce of consideration more than he'd be comfortable with. He cleared his throat.

But Fye had caught it, smiled gently and warmly towards him. "It was fine."

"That's… good," Kurogane mumbled, facing him now, bringing himself back on to the bed in order to stare at him, a pensive frown. Like he felt there was something needed to be said, a gap that required filling in that one moment but he couldn't interpret it, couldn't say what he needed to.

Fye raised his eyebrows, edging away from the awkwardly silent and hollow atmosphere.

"If there's a problem then you can tell me. It's alright," Kurogane threw out as a substitute, catching Fye by surprise as he withdrew his gaze.

"I know and I trust you," Fye stated simply before adding, "but all I need is time."

Kurogane nodded, staring back into him now, feeling this warmth sink into him, the understanding between them beginning to affect him. He nearly allowed the edges of his lips to rise that tiniest degree looking towards his pleasant and assured smile.

"My mummy said that two people really, REALLY love each other when they sleep in the same bed," a voice interjected from the door.

Kurogane's expression hardened instantly, throwing himself round and yelling, "For the last time, it's not like that, kid!" He could feel that unsettlement rising within him again as Kamui and Usui blinked innocently towards him, as Fye laughed sweetly at his back at his reaction, raising the hairs on his neck, without understanding a single word or implication.

***

_**a/n: **__You know I barely ever write an innocent-ish Fye…in fact I don't ever recall writing an innocent Fye lol I hope you found him interesting! I hope I spelled 'O-ha-you' right this time too? Oh and thank you to Itachis-Witch for pointing out some bits of German in previous chapters, they've been changed!  
PS. Extra apologies for that shameless French cheese joke xD And the euphemism one, couldn't resist!  
_


	17. If I weren't here

_**a/n: **__Apologising here and now because this was HARD. In general, I find these scenes more difficult than just about anything else but this one happened to be especially bad given I try to picture a language barrier every time I write speech in this. I try not to make their English too bad but at the same time I try to keep it simple. And then I realised when I came to write this chapter that I'd gone the whole story presuming Kurogane only knew one or two English swears and even then only in a few limited scenarios. __So… er… I sincerely hope this turned out okay and isn't as stinted as it felt!_

_  
_***

Fye had seen him stare at that picture in Mio's hands, seen his eyes harden, his mouth set even as he tried to appear happy, express how proud he was of her. But there was unease in his expression, a harsh and unsettling edge rising through him. Fye had said nothing, just tried to pretend that he hadn't noticed, heard as the family all told Kamui how important it was that Fye was to remain a secret. Although to be honest, Fye was unsettled by the fact. He didn't feel like a secret anymore, he didn't feel like a shameful lodger, having somehow integrated into the three lives with pleasant ease. He was grateful for that. But still it seemed to discredit his role somehow, being the escapee holed up in a block of flats. Not that he could complain and not that he would, he just felt himself becoming so close to them it now seemed as if he had family on both sides of the world.

So when Renzu showed up he'd been conflicted for a moment, tempted to walk straight up to her with a smile and a hand held out, although ultimately decided against it, respecting Kurogane's wishes, realising how hard it would be to explain everything that had happened in the past 5 months. It would be hard for either of them to sum up exactly what and why everything happened.

He remained a closely guarded secret.

And once she'd left, once she'd taken the three children home, he rifled through their pictures, flicking through every flower-laden, bright and loving creation of Mio's until he found the one.

Kurogane's eyes turned to his, striking almost fearfully, as he smiled.

"It's cute how we're holding hands, right?" Fye noted cheerily.

The other man glared at him.

"You can stop ignoring the point," he said in a gruff voice, leaning back against the countertop.

Fye's eyes settled, glimmering slightly, a slight and knowing twist in his lips. "Do you still love her? Renzu?"

"I'm not jealous," Kurogane spat slightly forcefully, strong enough to make Fye raise an eyebrow but insisting, "I don't regret leaving and I'm fine with it."

"So what's wrong?" Fye asked, staring once more towards the pictures, the two pairs of stick figures, long and exaggerated, garish clothes and tiny hands.

Kurogane paused, biting a remark back on his teeth. "I have the children so that she can spend time with him."

"She's using you?" Fye exclaimed lightly, surprised.

Kurogane nodded bluntly.

"But that's alright, isn't it?" Fye pointed out, "as long as you have the children."

"That's not the point," Kurogane muttered fiercely.

"I don't know; if it's a good situation for you then it can't be too bad," Fye shrugged, setting down the drawing, not expecting the reaction.

"If someone was using you then you'd be happy about it?" Kurogane snapped. "To her it's not about the fact that I'm their father."

"Well _you're_ using me and I'm happy about it," Fye argued, tone running low and defensive.

Kurogane stopped for a moment before he raised his voice. "What? When did that happen?"

Fye's eyes spun sharply over to him in disbelief. "It's been happening for months! Did you notice? Didn't you ever think about it?"

"No! I let you stay!" Kurogane retorted.

"I'm only still here because I clean the whole flat!" Fye suddenly snapped.

"That's not true, you're more than that!" Kurogane forced out, hesitating for a moment, allowing a gap for Fye to intercept and take advantage of, throw in his face for all it was worth.

"Yes, I take care of your children too! They came more often when I came. You noticed that," Fye seethed, furious all of a sudden, blood rising to a boil. "It wasn't about me, it was about you!"

"Do you think I'd let you stay here for months just to clean?" Kurogane yelled, raising his voice to a wide and forceful barricade. "It isn't like that! I don't need you and if you're this unhappy about it then why are you still here?"

"Do you want me to leave?" Fye slowly said. "Would that be easier for you? Because everything about my stay still centres around you!"

"It's my flat!" Kurogane interjected sharply.

"So you can be as selfish as you want to be? It doesn't happen like that!" Fye spat, frothing over more than he usually might.

"It's my life and it's my flat and you're lucky you're even here!" Kurogane shouted bluntly, his words feeling bare without curses, his vocabulary not quite colourful enough to achieve his full range, express his anger.

"I don't have to be here! I didn't have to stay!" Fye yelled, voice curling and hissing in resent.

"Then you can leave!" Kurogane burst, volume climbing ever higher. "I don't know why you've been here so long, you haven't told me! You haven't told me a damn thing!"

"I can't do it!" Fye snapped, for the first time emotion beginning to leak into his voice. "For the last time, I can't!"

"What could be that terrible? Why the hell have you been in Japan for so long? Did you kill someone?" Kurogane thoughtlessly spat.

Fye flinched, awkwardly tensing, gritting his teeth, hesitating for so long Kurogane's expression dropped, his shoulders loosened in surprise. And then it was as if something in Fye suddenly burst out from him. "You don't understand. You can't understand it! This is your flat and your life but you can't force this out of me because you're too damn selfish to understand it! This is _my_ problem. I don't need you to be involved!"

"I am involved! You think you can run away from everything, stay here for months and say nothing! It doesn't work like that either!" Kurogane fumed, finding problems, details he'd never seen before.

"Do you want me to just leave you alone?" Fye seethed. "I'll leave and then you can forget about me completely, do you want that?"

"If you want to leave then go! I don't care about your problems and I don't need you being involved with mine!" Kurogane yelled, feeling his voice grit, feeling his throat burn its fiercest since he'd divorced Renzu.

Fye took a step back pacing towards the door, picking up his jacket. He slipped on his shoes, breathing unevenly, voice ringing, shaking, biting and lashing even so. "I cared about your problems..."

With two flicks of the wrists, throwing open and smashing closed the door, he was gone. Kurogane could hear his feet pounding, fast and furious, breaking through the silence on the stair-well.

He took a breath, he closed his eyes…

***

His coat was now thin in the gently lying snow, loose and slippery against the pavement, on the tarmac. The world was blissfully quiet, a witness to his temper, nearly jogging as he moved further and further out into the world, pressing forward, the flat and everything about Kurogane hanging on his back.

And suddenly he felt weak and hopeless, this sick and insignificant little dot hanging on a map. He could barely do anything by himself it seemed. Never could. In that respect he depended entirely on Kurogane. And it was a mistake. It writhed within him, pulsing against his skin, bringing awkward lumps to his throat. Japan was a mistake. He stopped to push developing tears from his eyes and as he slowed, as he became as silent and steady as his surroundings, enveloped in almost lethargic snow, clinging about his frame damply and carelessly, just the same as everything else, the cars lying abandoned by the side, each tree lying still as though asleep. A cat scampered off a wall. And he'd never felt so alone before.

For the first time everything caught up with him, physically present in the tears within his eyes, running down each cheek in a chilled and salty mess, pouring from him as his body shook, dashed with each floating fleck of snow, soaking into his hair and clothes. He thought of his brother, of everything that had gone wrong, that had been wrong with him and felt ill, a trembling wreck, pursing his lips tightly, desperately, trying to seize up a well of tears, taking deep and shuddering breaths.

He took a step forward, followed it with another and another and another and another, quickening to a run until he distracted himself with his pace, adamant and strong. His eyes were still red and bleary when he stopped, panting at the end of the road, hot and sweating beneath his coat, the snow lying slick and awkward on his skin. There were problems. Problems in his life, in Germany, in Japan, in the things he'd just said. And no matter how much he desired simply to curl away and shield his eyes and his ears from it all, to dissolve and melt away like the pathetic drops of snow lying limp against his hands, it seemed impossible.

The idea rung in his head – reverberating and directing him like a bell or a light bringing him home. Kurogane was all he had and Kurogane deserved more.

***

Kurogane leant against the countertop, usual position, fingers drilling slowly and steadily in the drawers with a frown on his face, running deeply into his brow, tracing thought. Perhaps nothing he'd said had been a lie and perhaps he'd meant every damn bit of it, coming to despise those lies Fye had within him, blanketing over them like they'd never even existed. It was pathetic. But then what he'd said was unnecessary, he knew that. And he knew he had no place in Fye's personal life but at the same time there was a feeling digging away at him, wanting to be involved, to keep their connection or deepen it. It was strong but it was recumbent, patient and shallow within his skin.

He would get the truth out of Fye. It was like a duty, his being the only shoulder to rest on. Alone in Japan, there seemed to be little other alternative to face his demons without burying them entirely. That was probably what he was aiming to do in fact, knowing him. But he also realised how little his anger achieved now. Which was a rarity - it was incredibly seldom that he had an argument with someone and felt that they hadn't deserved it, hadn't needed their head bashed and set straight. But then Fye was already unique somehow, something that mattered to him more than cleaning.

He swore to himself, grumbling, throwing on his jacket, sliding on his shoes and collecting his keys. He didn't doubt he was selfish but the flat had been clean enough long ago.

He threw himself out the door, slamming it shut, locking it behind him, carrying himself in a furious rush down the stairs, digging deep into his pockets searching for the damn car keys he probably left behind, scraping the lining with such frustrated focus he nearly ran straight into him.

Fye perked a small and apprehensive smile, stopping right before him, staring towards him with such a soft gaze in his eyes, speaking in such in a gentle voice – "I'm sorry. I'm grateful for everything. I was just a bit angry."

Kurogane nodded, relief spilling within, awkwardly intimate and strong as Fye smiled towards him, freezing cold but safe.

He pressed jokingly against his side. "Can I still stay?" Fye asked with a grin, a glitter in his eyes.

Smirking, a deep twist, Kurogane mutters, "Tch. It was fine before."

"I'm glad," Fye nodded, making their way back up to the flat, silently progressing up the cemented steps with a steady and saturated pace, the words from Fye's throat hitting against something solid and untouched between them – "Would you miss me?"

A key half way in the door, his hands pinching it hesitantly, Kurogane looked towards him with an even and hard gaze, picking apart and reassembling, suddenly uncertain and furrowing his eyebrows as he watched Fye smile.

"Probably," he eventually muttered, voice ringing with surprising clarity in his ears, turning the key and having done with it.

***

He'd never thought about it too deeply, given it any time for reflection, instinctive, pondering or otherwise, but all the same he found himself thinking back on it, the idea of Fye being gone.

He'd arrived home, bag in hand, left thoughtlessly dumped on the table, loosening his tie and abandoning it over a chair like a limp and worthless afterthought, dripping lifelessly as Kurogane called out - huffed rather - his welcome home. To no response.

He checked the living-room, pacing through only to find an empty chair and a lonely desk chair sat patiently by the computer as though awaiting a purpose. All the electronics sat dead and devoid, removed somehow yet retaining a three dimensional presence within the room, protruding and interrupting heavy and tense air. It seemed to hover slowly and uncertainly, as did Kurogane. The bathroom door was open and there was no-one inside, his own bedroom was left as it was and Fye's own room sat empty, bed arranged neatly, both grateful and well-kept – not a crease to betray his presence. As for his belongings, they seemed to be tucked away out of sight … or missing?

Kurogane spent several minutes searching for his bag, sometimes hidden under the desk, at times popped up against the sofa, this time kept in neither space. Fye's toothbrush was sitting in the holder right next to Kurogane's, as it had done and as it should do, assuring him slightly of his presence. But then toothbrushes aren't exactly irreplaceable. It brought on the mild realisation which brought on the fear that in turn set mild anxiety in motion. It lay on his chest, thick and foreign, thoughts of cold and unknown streets, words never said although it occurred to him there was nothing in particular in his mind he felt Fye needed to be told. Perhaps apart from that he was a reckless idiot but he knew that himself it seemed. Still it would take one hell of an idiot to run away twice like that, no word, no letter, no goodbye or promise of reunion. It left Kurogane empty and bitter, that prospect of careless rejection and dismissal. So he breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders sinking further than he cared for, as he found all of his clothes in the wardrobe, recognised his shoes by the door, where they had been placed and where they had mostly stayed for well over five months now.

Although this was a cause for even greater worry and confusion. Fye had vanished.

And just as Kurogane sat down, running through every thought carefully and deliberately, where he might have gone and how, whether he was alright or not, there was a hiss of a sliding door, a harsh and yet familiar clatter. Curtains shifted with a sigh, feet stepped through and Fye padded through in the kitchen, jacket over his shoulders, an empty cup of tea in hand. His cheeks were slightly flushed, glowing a soft pink, his fingers a raw red as he set the cup down against the draining board. He smiled towards Kurogane as their eyes met, warm and pleased, delighted somehow to see him, smoothing over any issues Kurogane had with Fye running away a second time, this time escaping from him.

"Were you outside?" Kurogane asked, almost on a single and rough breath.

"I was on the balcony. The lights look nice in the dark," Fye explained, a slightly curious smile alighting his face as he removed his jacket – it twisted and beamed, a sweet and insignificant question prettily brushing his lips.

Kurogane merely nodded, tightly and awkwardly, something sticking to his chest as Fye left the room. There had been something unsettling about his worry, about the way Fye seemed to skim so gently from the room.

Something ran down his spine.

***_****_

a/n: _Just tell me it didn't work outright XD Other than that I don't think I have too much to say for a change!_


	18. Becoming something completely different

_**a/n:**__ I'm so sorry! Uni is physically eating me alive so the breaks between chapters will be getting longer because I've barely been writing at all :( It's a pity! I really enjoy writing! Either way I hope this chapter makes up for it in some sort of way!  


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"Kuro-samaaaa," Fye sang, skipping and bumbling through to the living room, moving with such natural ease around the furniture, warbling both amiably and pleasantly, "we should get Christmas decorations. It would make the flat look nice for…"

He recognised the signs of aggravation - the jaw set tight and firm, unmoving and tensed, the frown buried deep within his forehead, anger burning the expression into his skin, slow and gradual, fingers clenched tightly about the mouse. He breathed, roughly and deeply, taking in every pixel on that screen, on that email, allowing each symbol to sink into his skin and writhe there, pulsing furiously, as he threw himself away from the keyboard without a single word or warning.

"Kuro-sama!" Fye cried again, this time in a confused snap, whirling about to watch Kurogane stomp through to the front door, leaving the computer as it was, lonely screen blearing and applications hovering about unattended to, as he snatched his coat from the hook.

"What is it?" Fye called once more, following him through, a steady step, a firm voice with a frown against his own brow, growing worried and frustrated.

Roughly sticking his arms through his jacket sleeves, it was as if Kurogane couldn't hear a word, didn't want to, sensing only some mental instinct – a clear path carrying him to his destination, anger seeping with each step. It was clear in the way he zipped the jacket, a fierce tug, the hasty and agitated tying of a lace, a waste of time and effort, his fingers fumbling and jerking furiously at his shoes as his jaw became firmer, gritting teeth burying frustration.

"Kurogane!" Fye called, arriving beside his shoulder, half-yelling in a sharp voice, both aggravated and ignored. "Where are you going? What happened?"

"Renzu," Kurogane sharply responded, a bitter stab with something fateful about it. His eyes were hooded, his keys were taken off the hook on the wall. He reached out for the door, suddenly feeling his arm yanked, ripped back.

"_Um Himmels Willen, was ist passiert?!_" Fye cried, glaring fiercely, concern gleaming in a cold edge as his fingers dug into his skin, deep-lying and determined. Kurogane's eyes spun over, burning agitatedly, flinching somehow as they met Fye's, firm and steady – they pierced him easily, stabbing sharply through his skin, twisting his guts with unease. He'd hesitated for a moment, and it was all Fye needed.

"You should calm down first," he reasoned, his voice spread low and soft, his eyes reflecting harshly, a strange light that placed Kurogane in unknown territory, standing his ground and yet sinking in, feeling his feet slip underneath him. He muttered a bitter, "tch," before relenting, throwing off Fye's arm roughly, yanking over a chair and setting himself down with as little of what you'd call grace as possible, shoulders hunched and darkly contemplating.

"She's taking the children back to her home town," he finally admitted, his forehead balanced against two fists, propped elbows digging into the wood in an air of seething reflection.

"For how long?" Fye asked, taking the seat beside him, shifting until they were side by side, eyes drawing together easily, words softly uttered, clearly heard.

A frown lay against Kurogane's brow once more, burying itself deeper. "She's not returning with them," his voice edged uneasily, bitterly, searching for the correct expression inside his mind, clouded in an angry haze. "They're moving."

Fye's eyebrows raised, expression soft and sympathetic however he spoke with a sharp and cutting tone. "But why?"

"Tch," Kurogane almost spat in disgust. "She doesn't like how they enjoy staying here. There are no jobs for her in her hometown so it can't be that."

"So she's cutting you out?" It came out as an exclamation, something angry and brutal, beginning to hate a woman he'd never met before.

"She believes she's the better parent," Kurogane explained philosophically, leaning back against his chair with his arms folded, his eyes hovering half-shut, "but I know that a good parent wouldn't be that selfish."

There was silence for a moment, clear and seemingly boundless, met with distaste and apprehension as anger simmered softly, gently boiling. Fye sat, back straight, his lips folded thoughtfully, eyes gleaming as they absorbed Kurogane's words, taking them in and turning them over in his mind, carefully thinking them over before speaking. "You can't say that."

Kurogane raised his eyebrows, gazing towards Fye, his certain posture, his careful and gentle smile.

"You can't insult her," Fye clarified. "She wouldn't listen."

"You think you know my ex-wife?" Kurogane scoffed, blurted, realising afterwards that his words had emerged less scathing than intended.

"I think I know why you disagree with her," Fye said, continuing smoothly and boldly. "You both think you are right when it could be neither. You begin to accuse and it sinks from there. It's simple. So you can't tell her things or insult her. It makes more sense to explain calmly in detail. And then she may see your point." He finished, giving one quick and final smile, cheerful and bright.

Kurogane stared, both impressed and uncertain, wondering if this was a tactic he'd ever used, noticed or tried in recent years, wondering why he should listen to Fye of all people.

He had an answer for this as well. "I know that I'm younger but I watch and I listen and…" He paused, eyes dipping, smile rising and strengthening in shine. "I don't want you to lose your children. I wanted to help. So I tried to calm you down and see why." He gave a flashed grin, appearing and vanishing hesitantly. "Did it work?"

He raised his eyes once more, meeting Kurogane's head on, feeling their stare, critical and yet surprisingly warm, uneasily touched. His mouth shifted awkwardly, eventually producing the words, "Thank you."

His arm drifted over, hand lying against Fye's arm for the briefest moment before he stood, rising, cleared of the matter as his blood cooled and slowed, feeling his own argument to Renzu focus and expand as he laid his hand on the door handle.

He left the flat without another word, oblivious to Fye's mildly stunned expression, his fingers drifting thoughtlessly to the area their skin had touched, surprisingly sentimental, warming and confusing. His chest tightened thinking about it, a tiny and perked smile gracing his lips with no-one to behold it. It seemed that their relationship had always been changing.

***

"It's not only that I think I deserve better than this. It's mainly about them," he clarified, finally accepting that cup of coffee, somehow setting them on peaceful terms. "I'm their father and you can't separate them from me without somehow harming them."

Renzu blinked twice, mouth softly set and then heaved a sigh, leaning forward to rest herself against the table. "What happened?" she finally asked.

Kurogane frowned. "What?"

"I wasn't expecting this. Maybe in a week but not the day I sent the email…" she drummed her fingers against the table. "You've been busy changing all this time." She smiled, small, weak, half a laugh.

"Does it matter?" Kurogane spurted bluntly, folding his arms tightly.

Renzu smiled, slick and thoughtful. "That's more like it."

"You say I've changed but do you feel threatened by that? Do you think I'm going to take them from you?" Kurogane spat, steady and even nonetheless.

She raised her eyebrows. "It was a big change. What if I can't compete?"

"Then you should give up before they suffer because of you," Kurogane told her, forcing a stare so hard it drilled into the walls, bore through her own harsh eyes.

She pursed her lips, shifted them slowly and evenly. "Right… but I've got a question."

Kurogane grabbed his coffee mug, raising his eyebrows in marked disinterest, scoffing almost as he took a gulp.

"What's with the sudden change in temperament?" Renzu asked, clasping her own mug firmly in slim fingers.

Kurogane's eyes narrowed, he hesitated in thought. And then he shook his head, frowning and he leaned forward once more. "It's nothing."

***

It was everything about Fye.

It was the way he smiled as he returned home, wide and warm, the way he spoke to him, without pressing, smooth and yet intimate, the way he seemed genuinely thankful that Kurogane had quietly and effectively won his battle… This change she'd brought to light, shone right into his eyes, he felt growing and twitching as he stood in his flat with Fye. The matter pulsed beneath his fingers.

Fye couldn't whistle a tune, could only manage a single pitiful note. Fye still ate noodles like a precarious sideshow. He always made his bed neatly, dragging the sheet over the pillow and sighed strangely whenever a TV programme or film ended, regardless of his interest beforehand. Each fact was close to Kurogane, surprisingly so. He felt it murmur uncomfortably now it was exposed, an awkward wriggle within him as he stared towards him now, playing with a rubber band on the table as they talked.

"Are you sure it's alright?" Fye asked carefully, giving it a tight tug as his brows knitted in concern, his voice sunk softly.

And it nearly burst from Kurogane's lips, feeling like that rubber band in his trim and delicate fingers; it nearly sprang into unprepared air – you mean something to me. It was circling around his head, spinning on itself without a definite answer or meaning, it was almost a distraction, he sought so hard to explain it as they talked. But the fact still stood that he could barely understand it himself.

"It's fine," he muttered, laying each item on the table to the side.

***

Kurogane had been forced to buy decorations, to string them about the room in a half-hearted and gloriously shining mess, later straightened and rearranged by Fye, little pieces of tinsel sparkling warmly in the dark and small flat. And it wasn't so much that Kurogane usually decorated, it was the fact that Fye clearly felt more at home doing so, giving a tight and contented little smile every time he gazed towards the little stars and silvery strands, soft light and lingering glows – they emanated a certain spirit Kurogane was obviously immune to. On the other hand, Fye seemed to function better within its presence, adding his own looping signature to a select few messages (To Mio and Usui, love Fye) and watching little bells adorn the site banners, dotted on the computer screen. It was something Kurogane understood little of and didn't question, merely accepted the culture difference, the different levels of meaning and importance between them both.

Even so he still gave a smile as he walked into the kitchen, glanced towards Fye, his beaming smile, the sweet smell of pancakes in the air. "_Fröliche Wehinachten_," Fye chanted through the rising dawn, spreading thickly over the horizon, mottled by towers and high-rises, dismembered by skyscrapers and cranes lingering on the very border of the sky. It seemed to glow warmly, bathing the kitchen in a wonderfully still and pure gold, it gleamed off Fye's hair like an angelic crown.

"Merry Christmas," he supplied, sucking it of its meaning, leaving only his accent draped over it like a removed and foreign term – meh-ree kris-o-mass-o.

"I feel bad," Fye sighed, silently acknowledging the greeting, turning back to the cooker. "I didn't get them anything." He smiled, soft and lop-sided, strangely sad as it hung on his face.

"It's fine," Kurogane said. "They can't expect a diamond thief to walk into a toy shop exactly. And we can just say my present is from us both if they ask."

Fye smirked first, fingers curling underneath the countertop, head twisting gently as his smile widened, glowing in delight. "You're making it worse, Kuro-chan."

"What?" Kurogane muttered sharply in surprise.

Fye flicked his gaze about to his, smiling endearingly. "They're too young to understand that we aren't together." His smile slowly dropped as he realised how casually he'd mentioned it.

Although Kurogane seemed to mind very little. "They'll learn it. Until then I don't want to pretend or change what we are…" He finished, a mild ripple down his spine, the air freezing about them, standing solid between them.

Fye bit his lip, gazing pensively towards Kurogane, feeling a small knot in his stomach. "What are we?" he asked, suddenly confused.

Kurogane frowned, his jaw settled strangely. "We stay together…"

"Friends, ne, Kuro-rin?" Fye suddenly sang, lips forming a wide grin, bright and plastic. He turned back to his pan, teasing the edge of the pancake with a knife.

Kurogane shrugged, wondering himself now. "Yeah…"

They remained wordless as Fye slid the pancake out of the pan, poured in a healthy dose of mix for the next and laid it before Kurogane, a tight and genuine smile, shy but meaningful.

"Thanks," Kurogane procured, feeling himself settle in a foreign place, eating pancakes in a shared flat on Christmas morning.

And when they were finished eating, when Kurogane was prepared to leave, small bundle of presents in a carrier bag, Fye began to perk up again, smiling softly, reminding him, "Give them two hugs, one from you and one from me!"

Almost ignoring him, Kurogane's face set sternly. "Will you be alright here?"

Fye grinned, lazily flapping about his hand with a smile strung adamantly across his face. "I'll be fine!" he chirped.

Kurogane narrowed his eyes, feeling almost guilty for leaving him alone in the flat on today of all days, his hand held tight on the door handle. It loosened as Fye wandered over, invading personal space, stepping close to him and assuring him, "I know but it's alright. You should go see them and not worry about me."

And at that glint in his eyes, that calm force, at the beautiful tweak in his lips, fulfilled and assuring, voice softly whispering, Kurogane felt a smirk emerge on his own face, pulling the edges, chest in a tight knot as he opened the door…

Damn liar.

He spent the afternoon swarmed by his two children, clashing against the company of his ex-wife, joyous and yet retrained, only to come home to a completely new sight. He'd found him almost in tears, a lost and forlorn gaze within his eyes, focused on nothing, drifting as bit down on his teeth, lips trembling and pursing in focus. And still his eyes rolled softly up to Kurogane's, he smiled small and assuring through the evening dusk. "It's fine," he whispered in a clipped voice, wavering through stiff air, shaking on the very edge of his immaculately made bed.

He smirked ironically, disappointedly, as Kurogane set himself down next to him, expecting some sort of blunt remark or sharp comment… they both remained wordless, the older man staring deeply in a roughly drawn frown towards Fye. And then he asked, "Why are you upset?"

Fye's shoulders became increasingly bunched, his fists clenched and his lips rose, an anxious twitch. He sighed and he revealed, "I was thinking… and I thought of how we would all have a meal together on Christmas. Then I thought of how different it would be this year." He smirked again, this time a sad statement, a sorrowful glimmer. Only the slight twisting at the corners of his mouth betrayed the tear finally slipping from the corner of his eye. He frowned, deep and hesitant. "They don't know where I am … they probably think that I'm dead…"

Kurogane gave him a moment to brush the lone tear away, expression unmoving and still. He'd been expecting a story like this and if it weren't for the smallest fracture within Fye at that moment, something rare and terrifying, frightening to behold, then he might have comforted him, assured him they would be glad he was safe…

Instead he shuffled closer, bringing himself nearer to Fye's ears and his mouth, feeling his thigh brushing momentarily against his own, the shiver it induced as it did so, each tired and raking breath as he dried his eyes, sick with himself.

"What happened?" Kurogane asked, slow and deliberate. "Why did you run away?"

Fye's eyes slunk over to him suspiciously, shining with vulnerability and fear almost, pale and yielding for once. It was strange to Kurogane, watching the way his lips shivered as he thought, his eyes running over him darkly and then stilling as he viewed only a man close to him, a concerned companion.

Kurogane shut his eyes for a silent moment, his glower softening, as did the air about him, as though saying wordlessly that it was alright for Fye to trust him.

At that, Fye looked away, bunching up once more, refusing to make eye contact. "I hated myself… I wanted a new beginning, I wanted to forget everything and change…"

"What happened?" Kurogane asked once more, asserting, voice somehow both cold and warm, dripping through Fye forebodingly and yet carefully.

His lips tweaked again, his smile flickered rapidly once more as his eyes began to water and his fingers began to tremble. He frowned to himself, punishing somehow, arms clutching themselves tightly as everything began to swirl in front of his eyes in one painfully long and drawn out sequence, playing on fraught nerves so that they snapped, so that he bit his lip and clasped his eyes firmly shut, tears emerging once more. He nearly gasped as he felt a hand against his own, squeezing his fingers reassuringly, firmly, in a single caring motion. At that he melted into himself, trembling more than before, feeling his anxiety shatter and unfurl, loosening his skin and his lips.

"I think…" he choked once and then halted, summoning strength to carry on. "I think that I killed my brother." The tears began to spill faster from his eyes, his breath and body began to shudder, curling up into a weak and pitiful knot as he finally fell apart on Christmas day. "I think that I tried to kill my brother."

And all he felt was that hand curled tight about his own as everything spilled out of him in a rush, tears and guts and all, words left trembling in the air.

* * *

_**a/n: **__Like I said, no time at all, barely able to write let alone post xD Enjoy my one and only cliff-hanger!_


	19. It's flashback time!

_**a/n:**__ When I came up with the idea for this I'm not sure if I'd even heard of Horitsuba. Basically I ended up fashioning my own brother character on what fitted most with the story and contrasted best with Fye so he's not in any way, shape or form like the brother character in Horitsuba – in fact it's the wrong way round! Take it as a matter of creative liberty if it feels a little funny to compare the two sets of twins! ^^;_

* * *

Fye's brother was the kind of person to make everyone around him worried without being aware of the fact himself, the type to be so naturally inquisitive and spontaneous he always evoked a raised eyebrow or an anxious stare. He was the louder brother, the more sociable of the two, laid-back, chilled, care-free… He paid a lot of attention to Fye's problems and ignored his own personal demons completely. In a sense that made him a haphazard personality but then it also made him very easy to get along with for some. He lived for the present and for the present only. He disregarded work in favour of play and he had seemingly no understanding of the word 'consequence'. Fye's brother was likeable but he was also a loose cannon.

He woke up every few nights with a dry throat and a headache. He breakfasted on coffee and cigarettes. He dragged himself through the dull ventures of his studies driven entirely by caffeine, nicotine and the occasional sandwich and the rest of his time he spent working in a local café and reading English literature as a hobby. He typically went to bars and clubs at night, partaking from a certain scene before managing it back to his flat and starting the cycle all over again the next morning.

In contrast, Fye tended to stay at home in the evenings, mostly stuck to the screen, the type to know more people online than in his daily life. He was quiet and relatively shy when it came to talking to new people, as if his connection with his own twin pushed him further and further from a boundary line.

They had always been too easy to compare and judge, identical in all physical ways and yet inverses to the core. Ever since their childhood their differences had been inspected, withdrawn, examined and marked from their young and impressionable frames.

In the beginning their relationship was simple, as plain and naïve as their childish innocence, their perception of the world pure and unadulterated. If they differed in any way then their youth allowed them to see past it, both playmates and best friends, brothers so close their bond remained unbroken for years. They were orphaned together, they were adopted together and they moved home together. Side by side, they faced the new playground and stuck fast to each other, something nothing could break through, not other boys or girls, not different sports or games, nothing. But even then Fye was the more hesitant twin, the one who tended to shy away from antics and frivolities. He didn't speak often to the other children and he always made sure that he was right behind his brother, either being led or being guided. In that way, Fye's brother grew up firmly in the role of a ring leader, with certainty embedded in his nerves and cheer is his veins. Things only changed when Fye picked up the chickenpox while his brother remained miraculously free of the disease for another two years. He continued to go to school and, in the absence of his twin brother, began to play with the other children. By the time Fye had returned to school, his brother had fallen in with a new group of friends, the world seeming to suddenly shift as he blinked. In a week a crack had formed, a flaw had developed and Fye found himself sitting alone with a packet of sweets and a games console at the side of the playground while his brother was playing or talking to a larger group of children Fye was too quiet to involve himself with.

It seemed then that as they grew older, the further this rift widened, the more it began to crack and dig into Fye, painfully reminding him that his twin was a separate identity, that he was alone. They both grew and they both matured, they both developed in different ways to become individuals and form two identities, completely separate and detached. One became silent while the other spread his voice further and further. One surrounded himself with close friends while the other launched himself from one clique to another. One gave small smiles and the other loud and ringing laughter. That was how Fye was taught to lie – facing his brother, pulling his widest smile and declaring he was happy. He was pleased with everything, his life, his brother, his choices… His brother seemed content enough with this, passing his own grin, light and carefree before heading into town with his friends.

It was all a lie. And as Fye's brother seemed to sparkle, Fye seemed to dull and as he became more introverted it was almost as if his brother became more extroverted by the same degree. It was that very fact that dug Fye further and further into his own shell, retreating from company, sick of being compared, of being marked against this beacon of popularity, radiating within his own social circle.

Fye's brother was happier than Fye because he surrounded himself with people and began cutting himself from his own worries. Fye's brother never regretted his own actions and lived for fun rather than toil. Fye's brother was the type to only revise for a test at 11 o'clock the night before, to drink certain nights after school and return home tipsy, expecting his brother to cover for him. He jumped between girlfriends and boyfriends so often there was barely any point in keeping up, Fye never wanted to see their faces anyways. It always made him feel ill thinking of how his brother saw them, how they saw his brother…

His brother was the type to face the world erratically, someone who never saw any problems in the world or what he did, the kind of brother to accidentally steal Fye's first boyfriend, aged sixteen. And by the way he'd apologised, by the way he'd repeated that he was sorry to Fye, something painful lodging in his throat and his tone, Fye accepted that he hadn't known who it was. It didn't make it hurt any less though. Fye hadn't even kissed him yet, what might have been his very first. Seeing it happen like that, watching his identical, sociable self kissing his first step in the right direction, it were as if something broke inside him. He was useless, he was certain of it. He was awkward, he was a geek who couldn't enjoy life in the same way as his brother. He'd thought himself lucky to even find another boy who liked him and it felt like everything had been ripped from his fingers by something he could never be, something he was always sized up to, feeling he could never make the same mark. His brother was pretty and charming… his brother was so stupid.

His brother had started drinking at fifteen, had started smoking at seventeen and had lost his virginity somewhere in between. If you asked to whom, he'd laugh first. Meanwhile Fye stayed at home, worrying, thinking about where his brother was and what he might be doing. He was absolutely terrified, scared sick that one night he might never come back, that he'd try drugs, that he'd become an addict, that he'd catch some disease off someone or that one day his body would give way and crumble from the abuse to his system. And perhaps at sixteen this anxiety was at its mildest level, more bitter and reproachful than anything else, but things began to accentuate and worsen as they both grew even older, the anxiety took over his whole system at times when his brother was away. Yet when he came home, when he stumbled across Fye reading in his bedroom, all of a sudden _Fye_ was the one with the problem. And, as it turned out, Fye wasn't the one worrying about his twin, it was the other way round.

He would be told, his brother would pine to him constantly with such a caring and fraught tone, that he needed to get more, that he needed people in his life rather than books and computers. His brother was worried that he had problems forming ties with others, that when he left home he would shut himself away and become completely solitary and sorrowful. It'd develop into an argument if either of them were in a bad mood. One had too much of a life and the other had too little and yet neither seemed to see straight, both wanted to just continue as they were, pushing further and further apart until something gave way.

And eventually something did.

Fye left home to study Chemistry in Hamburg while his brother travelled further afield to study English in Berlin.

Separated from his brother for the first time, Fye felt both a sadness and a relief, feeling blatantly lonely but at the same time taking in a breath of fresh air, standing as an individual on his own two feet. For a period of time, he was happy and contented. He could study to his heart's desire, he could go out and find like-minded people, geeks and fellow internet fanatics merely a stone's throw away. He was his own person, finally growing confident with himself. But no matter how individual he felt in his new city, he was always reunited with his brother at weekends, during the holidays and over the occasional phone call.

At surface level nothing at all was wrong with his brother's life. Things couldn't be better. He was happy, he had new friends, he enjoyed his course but there was something that got to Fye. Perhaps it was the way he smiled, a full-blown grin, or the way he laughed like he was caving in on himself. He showed such glee in every movement that he made that it seemed tainted somehow and unreal, and the more time Fye spent talking with his brother he realised that nothing had changed at all but his levels of self-control had eroded faster than usual away from home in a city filled with nightlife. He worked hard but mostly to afford his own lifestyle. His student payments weren't due just yet. He was freer than before, looser and hence more available for anything. And it was clear that every one of Fye's teenaged fears were playing out one by one.

He stayed at his brother's flat in Berlin one weekend and immediately regretted accepting the offer, watching every inkling in his mind seep into physical reality. It had still surprised him how much his brother managed to put back before he started to get properly drunk, barely able to understand it himself. It wasn't that he never went out drinking, but that was with friends, that was a small affair with talk and rounds. It was a strange feeling now to be out with his brother and his friends, watching them tackle alcohol like a bull. By the end of the night he was completely fed up of it, mature but thrown completely out of his comfort zone, tired of being treated as younger now, unsure as to which acted most like their own age.

Walking back… his brother could only just walk in a straight line, could barely place one foot in front of the other without stumbling. He laughed so stupidly it made Fye want to scream at him, he slurred so much it nearly made Fye screech at him that he was smarter than this, that he was only degrading himself. Not that it would make a difference. He bit his lip, he sealed it away along with every other gut-wrenching moment that night, swirling about Fye's stomach sickeningly, digging into him. But still somehow through everything, with each intoxicated mental leap and slur, his brother still felt he was the superior one, informing him in a lapsing and confident statement that he needed to loosen up a little, he needed to enjoy himself more.

Fye snapped. "Why do you think I can't enjoy myself?!" he suddenly yelled, feeling the words finally burst from his throat. "Just because I don't act like you?! I'm glad…"

His brother blinked confusedly, scrunched up his brows, the words barely entering through his alcohol soaked system. "So I'm wrong?" he asked, a low and blunt remark.

"No, just most people have a sense of moderation," Fye spat, stomping away as quickly as he could with his throat catching.

And yet he could still hear his brother's voice crashing intrusively against his ears – "Loosen up, for fuck's sake!" He could hear his footsteps hitting the pavement unsteadily, teetering into a limping run, swearing loudly as he stumbled and hit against a parked car. "Get a life, Yuui, please! God's sake!" he heard his brother screech in return.

He stopped and spun around, night air clenching his skin, making the tears in his eyes feel more noticeable as he watched his brother make his way over, lips pursed, fists clenched and with dangerous determination in his eyes.

"Nobody seems to accept that I'm not like you! Why can't you just admit that I'm different and I'm happy?!" Fye practically sobbed, staring at him, emitting it in a lashing screech, years of discomfort emerging in an uncontrolled and trembling shout.

"You're not!" his brother responded, slurred speech digging dregs of emotion from his chest as he slowly crept up to Fye, close enough to be reminded how much he loved his brother, how much he'd drunk that night and how much he'd drunk that year. His brother clenched a hand about his arm, something sentimental dripping through. "I brought you here… because I want you to be happy."

Fye could feel that hand lying coldly against his skin, a painful and sickening reminder, an embodiment of everything he'd tried to clear from his mind, to rip away and scatter. Something that was expected of him, something that made him sick, something he could never be clutching against his skin, making him feel ill, a wash of fear, a slick sense of guilt and panic coming over him as he ripped his brother's hand off his arm and threw his arm away, lashing it away from his body as fiercely as it allowed him to, whipping about, his feet carrying him quickly and heavily down the pavement with his teeth clenched and his breath shaking.

He first heard the rubber screech but the two facts had barely met in his mind, the thought never formed… He heard the metallic crunch and something ice cold dropped within the pit of his stomach. He turned around, he saw the blood… and he'd never felt the desire to detach himself from his skin so strongly, to suddenly cease for one blissful second as the moment he watched the blood curl about his brother's head on the street. Others screamed but his own breath merely seemed to echo in his head, ragged and frightened…

***

"When I left, he was in a coma," Fye admitted in a soft whisper, his eyelids wavering over sodden eyes and his voice lying sorrowfully, with a gentle ache, against his lips. "We went to the hospital… and I just looked at him. I hated myself for hurting him. But then I started to wonder when the police arrived… I had done it… I had probably killed my own brother… but was I at fault?" he mumbled in a voice beginning to tremble once more, starting to shiver in guilt, difficultly edging from his throat. He clenched his fists and opened them again with a juddering breath. "I loved my brother but I hated him too. So if I killed him was it an accident or not?" He started to sob, tears leaked from eyes scrunched tight shut, locked up tightly, trying and failing to prevent these tears from leaking though, from piercing his explanation and ripping the sorry state apart. "I thought about it and I didn't know what I felt. I was sad… of course I was sad, I was devastated… but there was one tiny part of me that was happy… I hated myself for it." His shoulders tightened up, his posture pinched in self-loathing, lips trembling a fraction with discomfort. "I came to Japan because I murdered someone who I loved and I was glad."

Kurogane watched him wash away as he finished, watched him take a deep breath, shutting his eyes and leaning back to sink away as everything detached from his chest, thinking back to his brother in his hospital bed, swarmed by plastic tubes like snakes writhing down his utterly still arms and throat, that painful silence in the air that seemed to mark his guilt all the more and everyone's refusal to face facts. How much blood he'd lost; the results of the scans. It was all so sterile. He felt judgement being passed as he simply sat gazing towards his ghostly brother, his happiness exhumed and all life heartlessly removed. It felt so criminal.

Their hands were still curled together, more for reassurance than anything else, for a sign that Kurogane was still there, preparing to hold Fye together as his world began to drift away from his fingers once more, although the action felt strange to Kurogane, their fingers touching lightly, their skin held closely together. He frowned; he ignored and dampened the feeling as Fye washed all his tears from his eyes, wringing his own body out until it was bone dry.

Slowly and carefully their hands unlatched, Kurogane casually pulled his hand away, feeling a useless and distracting link, pinning him awkwardly within himself as Fye racked out every hidden emotion in one painful retching blow, his breath juddering sorely and desperately, his body tensed and sickened. Every piece of fear and anger seemed to rip itself from his frame, unstitching from his body and slipping painfully into the night air, leaving the youth before him pitifully empty.

Finally, he took a deep breath, his eyes bloodshot, his fingers shivering and clutching at his knees. He spilled a laboured and victorious breath, passing from his slim lips with relief, his eyes still shut. His mouth rose to a smile, his eyes slowly drifted open and skimmed over to Kurogane, shining dimly in the light, gleaming sorrowfully, a sharp and brief twitch of his lips. Now Kurogane could see who Fye was, could understand what he had done… And it were as if Fye had opened himself violently and suddenly, expecting Kurogane to take a step back, to be disgusted by the sight…

"I don't think you hate your brother," Kurogane told him, folding his arms sternly. "I think that you hate what he does."

Fye blinked, wide and shocked, silent and absorbed. Kurogane continued, a blunt and wise tone in his voice. "Stop making yourself believe that you tried to kill him. You didn't think about what you were doing… You were angry with him and it was unfortunate but it wasn't murder…You can't let your guilt control you because it's pathetic."

"So you're saying that I'm innocent?" Fye asked hesitantly, frightfully.

"I'm saying that you're stupid," Kurogane said with a smirk, placing a heavier and older hand on the blonde's head, his fingers sifting through his hair. It was a motion Fye was too old for, the moment held awkwardly and bluntly within the frozen and fraught air in the room but the space and tension between them was so raw in the first place, every word stung within the wound. "You wouldn't kill him. You're just trying to think that you did to justify an accident."

There was a pause, something cold and silent trembling in the night. And then it seemed to click. Weakly Fye began to smile, only a glimmer at the edges lips to begin with but it soon widened into a broad smile, steeped in gratitude. "You know me too well, Kuro-sama," he almost laughed, joyfully and thankfully in a hesitant little sputter as he turned his eyes slowly away from him, grinning besides himself. He reached out, clutching the hand seeping into his hair, clasping it thankfully, a tiny squeeze in gratitude as the edges of his lips rose, as his smile glowed and widened in hope and understanding.

Kurogane took in a breath, holding the moment close. Then he turned away, giving out his own blunt and lop-sided smile - Fye would be alright in the end; things would come to right themselves inside his blonde and scattered brain eventually.

He stood up, leaving the room, feeling awkwardly how saturated the air had been with tension and fraught emotion within Fye's bedroom, feeling the colder air in the kitchen, lonely and still, grasp at him and tighten his guts. He brought back the phone to Fye. He sat back down on the bed and placed it in his hands, wrapping his own about Fye's soft and slender fingers for a brief moment as he momentarily clasped Fye's hand. He told him with his voice sinking down low, strangely sympathising, "Call any number for as long as you need."

"Okay," Fye whispered and then sighed, happy and relieved.

It only started to dig into Kurogane's skin once he'd closed the door, once he'd stepped away from Fye. He would probably be leaving soon.

And although he accepted the fact, it frightened him how much it pained him.

***

The rings seemed to echo on forever, each bleeping pathetically and alone through infinity, finally trickling into his right ear for him alone to hear, hoping to reach out and clasp him, a soul so frightfully distant from home. The fear trickled on to his tongue. And it grasped his heart completely in a steely grip, just as cold, as the phone at the other end picked up. It seized him, he held his breath and tensed his body…

He heard her voice on the other end of the line, his adoptive mother…

The moment grasped him, seeming to collide with his chest and form a thick wad in his mouth as he listened to her voice, so warm and familiar, so frightening and distant. With his eyes wide open he listened to her for a second before he formed the decision, before he pursed his lips and readied his words in his mind. His voice shook for a tiny moment as he forced the German from his throat – "Hi… It's Yuui…"

He grinned as he listened to her burst into tears, felt thankful tears trickle from his own eyes as he heard the commotion behind her, signs of home. "I'm sorry!" the words burst forcefully from him without a single thought, ringing with emotion and wonder, with each smile and happy tear. "I'm so sorry!"

"How are you?!" she blurted. "Where are you?!"

"I'm in Tokyo," he admitted, feeling foreign in this country for the first time in such a long while. "And I'm safe. I'm fine… don't worry…" He grinned in disbelief.

"Tokyo," she repeated in a trembling breath as though somehow astounded and afraid. "They said but I... it was so far away and you had no money with you. And it seemed impossible but we...we just ..." She seemed to cut off about then, dissolving into her own sobs and wrenching Fye's conscience from his chest, terrifying him, all the time his thumb hovering so chillingly close to the 'end call' button. He sat stroking it without a single word he could say, half a smile on his face, a twist in his stomach and tears dripping silently from his eyes until the phone was snatched from his parent's hands, whirring through the air and a desperate voice cried, "Yuui, is it you?"

Another tear slipped from his eye, running down to meet grinning lips. "You're alive…" he whispered preciously.

"Yeah, I'm alive. Breathing. What about you? Are you alright?" the panicked voice blurted out over the line.

There was an anxious pause, a miniscule break, Fye's trembling, guilty breaths over the line as a wound seemed to rip in his chest and he brushed his tongue anxiously against the very edges of his lips, tasting salty traces of tears dripping into the corner.

There sat a long and painful silence…... and his brother sighed anxiously, "Please talk… You know, I began to wake up a day after you'd left. Some happy news to wake up to, huh? That my brother had vanished… We thought you'd killed yourself or something… but we didn't know for sure… and now you're back." There were tears over the line, rare and harsh. "I felt so guilty… we were so scared… please say something…"

"I'm sorry," was all that would escape Fye's mouth in a feeble, mindless whisper.

"Shut up about that!" Fye's brother snapped. "It's fine, it's completely fine. I don't give a shit about what happened, I just want to hear about you. I love you… you're my brother… and I don't even want to think about what I'd have done if you'd died…"

"Same," Fye whispered into the receiver, lips slowly shifting into a fragile smile.

His brother's voice saddened dulled and softened as though it had suddenly become more weaker, sounding thinner and so much more alone and scared than Fye thought he'd ever sounded. "So you're alright...? You didn't nearly die or starve or... something," he muttered, spluttering off in a tearful choke.

"No... I'm alright," Fye responded like a ghost, resting a hand on his thigh while the room seemed to dissolve in a wash of tears, smiling like he hadn't done in so, so long...

"That's really good ...You're coming home, right?" his brother tentatively asked.

And for a second Fye's eyes widened and his grip tightened about the telephone with his heart pattering loudly in his chest in protest, a thick stab of fear clenching it, yet the words fell so easily and thoughtlessly off his tongue."Yes... I'm coming home," he said, a triumphant tone trembling in a single breath.

* * *

  
_**a/n:**__ I'm alive!!! And unable to be as lazy as I usually am D: I was really meaning for the last author's note to be a joke so I'm sorry it actually turned out that way! Actually speaking of university and fanfiction, this chapter was a little odd for me. I probably wrote it after leaving secondary school and rereading it for mistakes and altering all sorts of bits and pieces was pretty uncomfortable, mostly because I've managed to turn into the way I've described Fye here far too much for comfort x.x (and not just the Chemistry student bit but on that note: yay for Chemistry students!) I hope this chapter made up for the wait! Of all chapters this one was the one I was being most careful and anxious with so I'd like to thank 'shhdonttell123' off livejournal for being really nice, reading it over for me and making suggestions when I really needed them :) She's also in the middle of drawing pictures based on this fic so I'll put up links on my livejournal when I figure out where to put them! Thanks a lot for being patient! Hope the plot twist wasn't too weird and that you're looking forward to reading the next chapter :D_


	20. And it finally clicks

_**a/n: **__Posting on Christmas seems a little ... presumptuous but it's still Christmas day in the story so the timing felt just right :)_

***

Kurogane frowned as he watched Fye emerge from the bedroom, absent-mindedly passing the phone from hand to hand, a sad little smile on his face and a heavy sort of reflection in his eyes. There was something about that look that made his stomach sink, made the way Fye placed the phone back in his hands seem like some sorrowful act of fate.

"So you're going back?" he muttered though it emerged like it'd been chewed up in his mouth, much more bitterly than he'd intended.

Fye's smile slowly grew though his eyes seemed to shine apologetically into Kurogane's own. "Yes." He let out a sigh as though he were trying to compound this fact in his mind. "I'm going home."

"Now?" Kurogane blurted almost fearfully, a frown creasing tightly on his brow.

"Not right now I mean…" Fye let out another breath, feeling events moving faster in his head all of a sudden, so fast after so long it was difficult to get a tangible grip on his thoughts. "I can't leave now. It's not _that_ easy to say goodbye!" He let out a nervous laugh and shot a reassuring smile towards Kurogane.

Though he didn't seem convinced or settled, his eyes only narrowing deeper and turning away to the computer. "Usui and Mio are coming again tomorrow. Do you want to leave after that?"

Fye nodded though his mouth set tightly hearing the cold and clipped tone in Kurogane's voice. "That might be for the best…"

After that Kurogane fell silent, staring towards the computer screen with a fixed and aggravated sort of focus. Fye said nothing, merely looked towards him apprehensively for a moment, then turned away and moved through to the kitchen. He poured himself a drink even though he wasn't thirsty, feeling something heavy digging at him frustratingly as he watched the juice glug into his glass. Leaning against the countertop, he sat and sipped his drink going over everything that had been said within the past few hours. Nothing had been done, barely anything had been done at all and so much had been said it was almost profound. He couldn't understand what was making him feel so indifferent about things, what Kurogane might have found in everything to have gone cold over. And strangely though he'd heard his brother's voice for the first time in so long, finally realising that he was still alive, it was almost like he felt that small conversation hadn't had enough of an impact on him.

"Are you flying to Hamburg or Berlin?" Kurogane called through from the other room and Fye blinked confusedly at how suddenly this was all happening.

"Er… Hamburg I guess… Wait, Kuro-chan!" He set down his drink, spinning through the open the doorway to the living-room. "I can settle the flight by myself! You don't need to worry about that!" he assured him with a cheery laugh, an anxious smile.

Kurogane merely shook his head. "I'll take care of it." His voice seemed gritty and aloof as if he weren't speaking to Fye.

Fye pursed his lips for a moment, staring towards him as though trying to judge if he could change his mind or not, if he could slowly chip and break him down. But in the end, he figured there was no point in fighting over it. "At least let me pay for the flight," he seemed to hum tunefully, placing his hands behind Kurogane's shoulder on the desk chair. "I have enough for it!"

Again, Kurogane shook his head without looking directly at him. "I said I'd take care of it."

Fye frowned. "Kuro-tan, I know you're a very kind and generous man but isn't this a bit much?" He tapped his shoulder, prodding it as though begging for a lighter heart or a sign of recognition… "It's very expensive…"

"I know that," Kurogane grunted, a hint of admission in his blunt voice and he turned around, whipping the chair from Fye's hands as he glared severely into him like he was trying to bore a hole straight through his body. "This is something I want to do. And I'm not changing my mind about it."

Fye found his lips slipping into a smirk, leaning forward and setting his hands against the arms of the chair as if he were pinning Kurogane to the chair, smiling towards him darkly, coyly… "If Kuro-rin thinks he hasn't done enough for me…"

"Tch, that's not it," Kurogane spat as he swatted away Fye's arms though he smirked as well almost in response, something completely beyond his control. Hurriedly, he spun away the chair from Fye's grasp. "You're just a student."

A poor excuse and Fye could sense it. He chewed his bottom lip for a moment in thought before he grinned, rising to the challenge. "And you have two children and an ex-wife…"

Kurogane seemed to chortle from the other side of the chair. "You're not changing my mind. And I need your passport details."

Slowly, Fye found a smile slipping on to his face unavoidably, taking a breath as he conceded defeat and gazing fondly towards the back of his head. He smoothly dropped down so that his mouth lay closer to Kurogane's ear, whispering mischievously into it, "I'll pay you back one day." His smile grew mischievously as he felt a ripple run through Kurogane as he sat in his chair, trying to prevent a shudder.

"So you're coming back," the other man muttered with an air of nonchalance to it, that tiny edge of hope and endearment giving him away.

"Of course!" Fye pitched as he grinned and swung back, pattering with almost a skip in his step back into the living room but slowed down as he reached the doorway, took another glance at the figure working at the computer. "I would miss you too much if I didn't, Kuro-chan."

Kurogane gave a dismissive grunt at this, barely any sort of a reaction in comparison to a few months ago like the taunt had lost his fatal edge, likes Fye's words and jibes and habits had become imbued into his life, becoming homely to him. That was the best explanation Fye could give as to why it made him smile so sadly at least.

***

Fye's eyebrows rose curiously as Kurogane slid the box across the table, frowned inquisitively as he picked it up and flipped it over in his hands, observing the collection of stickers, postage marks and stamps – a labelled present the German was unable to read. He shook it a little.

"I wouldn't," Kurogane muttered from his place at the cooker readying an instant meal Christmas dinner.

"Is it breakable?" Fye chirped excitedly, jingling the box from side to side.

"Just open it," Kurogane snapped, passing him a knife to cut open the thick cardboard, dumping it on the table with an impatient clatter.

Fye shrugged, digging the knife into the box, slicing it open along the side in a sawing motion. By the time he'd cut loose the lid, Kurogane had slid the noodles into the bowls and set them down at the table beside them, picking up his chopsticks and starting to eat up his food as he watched Fye intently, hacking open the package. Finally after much fumbling and ripping and hushed foreign swearing, Fye picked out the package in the centre, a bundle stuffed and wrapped in paper, bundled in plastic. His smile dropped for a moment, his eyes widened in surprise.

"… Well?" Kurogane asked with badly disguised anxiety, attempting to lay his tone thick with nonchalance.

Fye broke into a grin, standing up and throwing his arms about Kurogane, nearly causing him to splutter his noodles. "It's perfect!" he cried, giving him a tight squeeze before prancing over to the chopping board, snatching the knife he'd used to pry the box open. "I almost forgot how much I missed German bread!" he laughed, cutting several slices of the thick, dark brown bread.

"So…" Kurogane muttered nervously, a deep frown on his brow, "you like it?"

"I love it," Fye responded, promptly cramming half of the slice into his mouth, chewing it steadily as though savouring it, a fond and contented smile on his lips. He swallowed. "I've not eaten German food in months!" he continued, laughing and shaking his head, gazing towards the slice in his other hand. He sent Kurogane a thankful smile, tossing a slice of the bread in his direction for him to try. "It's very thoughtful of you," he added, his smile suddenly warming preciously as if he were thinking of something incredibly dear to him. It sent a tight shiver down Kurogane's spine, unsure how to react to it.

He picked up the thick bread, ripping a corner off and placing it roughly in his mouth as he watched Fye devour his own slices. After only a few chews his face turned sour, he swallowed and discarded the rest of the slice on the other side of the table. "That's disgusting!" he exclaimed, flinching as Fye burst out laughing, ridiculously and infectiously happy.

Though slowly his expression softened and dimmed, his eyes lowered and his smile shrank, forming a subtle and sorrowful curve. "But I'll have plenty when I return home…" he sighed, smirking towards the piece of bread within his hand. "No more sticky rice or miso or… your cooking."

Kurogane fell silent, his eyes flicking over to Fye periodically, uncertainly. He continued eating his meal without another word, trying to drown the taste of the bread lingering on his tongue, reaching into the fridge once for a drink but otherwise eating without interruption or distraction. Fye remained quiet as well, poking at his own dinner, snacking on the bread with a vaguely remorseful glaze to his eyes, somehow distant, caught in thought.

"I'm sorry I didn't buy you anything," Fye eventually sighed, breaking the silence as their bowls began to run empty. "You were very kind." He gave Kurogane a soft and sympathetic smile although he noticed it had that new edge to it, that endearing note in the shape of his lips, in the glimmer in his eyes…

Kurogane cleared his throat as though clearing his mind. "It's fine. You weren't able to," Kurogane insisted in a rough voice, something low and reluctant that made Fye's smile sink again.

He nodded softly, awkwardly, hastily picking up the emptied bowls and plates from the table and carrying them over to the sink. He set them down against the draining board slowly, with great care and thought, adamant not to meet Kurogane's eyes.

Kurogane frowned suspiciously towards his back, a feeling clutching in his chest, sitting there heavy and unshakable as his fingers clenched about the edge of the table, frustrated by the aloof distance suddenly intruding, rammed violently between them.

"Kurogane…" Fye finally muttered, an edge of severity seeping into his voice and tightening it, clenching his shoulders uncomfortably. He slowly turned to stare towards him, the faint shape of a frown traced on his brow. "This morning I asked what we were…"

"And you avoided your own question," Kurogane quickly reminded him, feeling something drop within his stomach at the very mention of the topic. He pushed his plate away from himself as though to settle his undivided attention on Fye but only felt himself becoming more vulnerable somehow, preparing to enter battle.

"You had trouble answering it," Fye said, allowing Kurogane's reminder to silently wash over his ears it seemed, digging his own statement into him instead like a dagger.

Kurogane frowned towards him questioningly. The subject was beginning to irritate him. "Tch. And? What's so wrong about that?"

Fye smiled faintly, staring towards Kurogane for a moment as he thought, something warm and soft in his gaze. "You didn't know the answer…And it's a simple question really. There isn't a reason why you wouldn't know the answer… And it's not just about you. I didn't know the answer either." He stopped there, looking carefully towards Kurogane with a confused and searching expression.

"So why does it bother you?" Kurogane found himself asking, staring hard into those wavering, uncertain pools of blue.

"I already said," Fye muttered lightly with a loose shrug, though his words did anything but convince Kurogane, echoing weakly and limply, "that it was a simple question."

"So? It's not a simple answer. This whole thing isn't simple. It's not a surprise," Kurogane argued though the question was beginning to shift in his chest, uncertainly and uncomfortably.

A long pause ran by in which Fye stared into him, a simple tweak of a smile on his lips and a thoughtful glaze in his eyes. "I don't know what I feel for you," he admitted heavily.

The words collided with Kurogane like a stab wound.

"You don't have to feel anything," he grumbled, scraping his chair back and moving over to the sink with his empty dishes. "I guess you don't know." He set the bowl down with a careful clink against the draining board, a frown set tight on his brow.

"Maybe," Fye sighed in response, turning his head to face him, smiling softly, fondly, again that wonderful glimmer in his eye…

Kurogane nearly gulped, forcing his head away and gripping the edges of the worktop before whipping his head back round, forcing out a question that had been revolving and spinning about in the back of his head ever since that morning when Fye had switched subjects, grating on him, gripping him with a sinking feeling. He'd snapped it before he could even catch his tongue. "Do you like me?" he asked sternly, frowning severely into Fye's pale blue eyes, feeling as though he was betraying himself.

"Eh…" Fye breathed at first, blinking wide and innocent as he hesitated. His mouth opened for a fraction of a second before he laughed, grinning widely and openly. "That's a silly question, Kuro-chan! Of course, I like you!" he sang, letting go of the worktop as though about to move away.

Kurogane reached forward, snatched at his wrist and clenched it tightly, threateningly. "That's not what I meant," he growled furiously, glaring towards him as though pinning him down, something stirring and writhing beneath his skin as he gripped the other's wrist, wrapped his fingers about his slender bones. "You know that's not what I meant," he seethed in a low tone, demanding something direct and concrete for once, feeling betrayed of an answer, of something overwhelmingly important.

Fye had appeared to have frozen, held tight to the spot, his blood thudding fearfully through his body; Kurogane could feel it beneath his skin, pulsing nervously under his skin. He opened his mouth, drew in a small and frightened breath as his eyes were held wide open, staring disbelievingly into Kurogane's. And then they softened, his mouth clamped closed, his other hand dug beneath Kurogane's fingers, trying to pry off his grip. His eyes dropped to the floor, a sad shine within, his lips pursed and then opened softly. "I tried not to let it change anything," he admitted in a steady voice, painfully bare and flat, his eyes snapping upwards to catch Kurogane's to stare into them honestly, pleadingly, frowning both severely and bitterly.

Kurogane didn't respond, merely relaxed his grip, his stare somehow becoming limp and unthreatening. Fye yanked away his hand, pursing his lips again and tensing his shoulders, something fearful lying slick and cold within him. It only made Kurogane's lack of response, that blank and hesitant stare towards him all the more painful. Wishing he hadn't said anything at all, he turned away, hoping his words wouldn't backfire on himself.

Kurogane reached out again, snatching at his wrist once more and Fye groaned, a light and sickened utterance, feeling frustrated just thinking about having to confront these emotions with Kurogane, to linger on them any longer than necessary. Though when he turned around, a hard and cold glare in his eyes, he was taken aback by Kurogane's expression, firm and reasoning, uncertain and lingering, something understanding in the way he gazed towards Fye and yet something confused too, hesitant and wavering ever so slightly.

All those small and meaningless little feelings that overcame him, that tugged harshly at his guts whenever he was close to Fye were steadily becoming clear, staring into the harsh and defensive glint in his eye, his firmly set lips, as he clutched at his wrist. In a rush the soft flurry in his chest, the tight and gnawing sensation in his stomach and the mental pause that stilled his tongue, forced him to hesitate in his speech from time to time, were all identified, were all realised and formed some sort of answer that seemed to click wordlessly into place within his mind. The sensation washed through him quickly, took him aback ever so slightly and he frowned to himself, his gaze solidly focused on Fye. He slipped his palm across the side of Fye's face, brushing a thumb fondly over his cheek and ignoring Fye's sharp intake of breath, that strange and unbecoming look of shock and confusion trembling in his eyes. There was something very right in the touch of his skin on Fye's, feeling his soft flesh beneath his fingers, something ultimately correct in the warm glow in his chest. This was someone who'd changed his life, someone important to him, the most precious and beautiful person to him after his children though in such different ways. And hearing that admission he'd never felt such a wonderful sense of relief, of desperation and elation…

He ran his hand across the back of his neck, pulled him into him, bringing their lips together as he felt Fye tense and recoil slightly, taking in a sharp breath as Kurogane kissed him, arms wrapping about his body. He could feel his heart pulse, a heavy patter and thrum inside his chest, the soft and moist touch of his lips and the stillness of his body that made Kurogane want to freeze and let go, caught and seized by an unfamiliar sense of panic. But Fye quickly seemed to melt, to fall naturally into Kurogane's hold, exhaling through his nose, slow and blissful, the warm air drifting smoothly about Kurogane's face as touched his hands against his shoulder, brought them there hesitantly. Fye's mouth opened slowly, softly, pressing tenderly against Kurogane's and finally wrapping his arms about Kurogane's neck, draping them around him slowly and tentatively, tightening their hold. Kurogane could feel his fingers treading lightly on the hairs on the back of his neck, his own arms wrapped tight and unmoving about the younger man's slender frame, noting blissfully the soft and delicate regions of flesh beneath his clothing, feeling his fingers probing his skin. He felt with a pleasuring ache the soft shifting of their lips, pressing warmly and deeply together as they savoured the moment, the tender touch, the warm and absorbed feeling, a wealth of relief, the tiniest sensation of saliva against their mouths. Kurogane could feel the pulse and throb of Fye's heartbeats through their bound chests though his own seemed painfully mute, still and silent within his body as though his heart had ceased and frozen, stopping and watching his own actions, the younger man held tight in his arms, his hand brushing cherishingly through his soft wealth of golden hair as their kiss drew on, dragging into to deep reaches, rich in emotion.

There was something inside of him that wanted to regret kissing Fye as they drew apart, as their lips separated softly and tenderly, drawing in deep breaths as though stepping into a new world. There was some corner in him that knew it was irresponsible, that it was misleading and probably impossible but he didn't allow it to stop him. If anything, that kiss had made him happier, more satisfied with himself and his choices in life, than he'd felt in a very long time.

Fye took in a large breath, spilling it out warm and soft as his head fell against Kurogane's chest, sitting there dreamily, a content smile playing gently on his lips as his hands lay against Kurogane's shoulders fondly, Kurogane's own hands still playing with his hair. He started laughing, he buried his head further into his chest as his head seemed to judder against Kurogane's body, his laughter ringing nervously and wondrously through the room. "I never knew you felt that way," he muttered in a breath that seemed to drip and spill with relief.

Kurogane smirked, wrapping his arms about him tighter, saying nothing though words seemed to scream and revolve about his head.

"Are you being serious?" Fye suddenly asked, frowning tightly and suspiciously from his resting place against Kurogane's body, his hands balling into fists.

"…Yes," Kurogane tensely admitted, feeling his voice quaver as much as he wanted to flatten it toneless.

Fye smirked and it quickly evolved into a grin, wide and delighted. "That's good," he said as he raised his head, stared deeply into Kurogane's eyes, recognising a connection that had always been there, sensing an underlying emotion that had always seemed to have lain between them undiscovered. He paused for a moment, his eyes running quickly up and down Kurogane's body hesitantly like he was trying to add together the idea in his mind and then he pressed his lips to Kurogane's again, a small and soul-revealing kiss.

***

_**a/n: **__Merry Christmas! Gawd I'm such a sap xD The last chapter took the story to over 200 reviews so thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! It means so much to me and I'm grateful for each and every one of them! :D Hope you enjoyed that little cheese-tastic moment and someone please come berate me if I just insulted bread in Germany! _


	21. The truth will out

_**a/n: **__So the first thing I'd like to say is completely unrelated and it's asdfghjk thank you!! :D With the last chapter the story alert count for this fic went over 100 – over 100 people get an email every time I update :O – and that chapter received 19 reviews which is more than anything else I've ever written! Thank you so much, everyone!! It's incredible and I really hope you like the rest of the story :D And if you noticed me asking on my livejournal how old you thought Fye was then I had this all thought out long, long before it suddenly occurred to me that people might not know x.x_

* * *

When Fye came through into the living room, he was flicking his fingers anxiously against his passport and treading with the lightest pace, eyes drifting over the room silently and soberly, taking in everything with a certain reflection, a warm sadness as he smiled softly down to Kurogane and padded over to the sofa. The room was sparingly lit, that single lampshade on the table giving out a meagre glow that pooled across the room and cast a golden hue over the sparse furniture, over the odd corners of mess and Kurogane's skin. He was hunched over in his seat, staring towards the TV with an empty gaze as though locked in a battle with his own thoughts and slowly sinking as he struggled with a very simplistic, a very natural mess.

Carefully and preciously, Fye smiled and set his passport down on to table in a neat and clipped manner before stepping over and gently laying his weight on to the sofa as if scared to ripple the silent, tense air between them, make a sound in a room so muffled. Kurogane was staring at him without any certain emotions, expecting him to speak or explain or hand over the passport.

There was nothing urgent to be voiced in Fye's mind, nothing small or conversational and the emptiness preyed on him for a moment, brewing with questions and confessions minutes earlier. He sat there for a moment, sighing and gazing down to his fingers, twisting anxiously as he wondered what he needed to say first, what could possibly lift this frustrating weight hovering over them.

He nearly jumped as he felt Kurogane's fingers touch against his leg, snapping him to attention, and he whipped round to feel that hard and pressing stare of Kurogane's, asking him to face a wordless demon without fear.

Instinctively he smiled, wide and relaxed, lifting his hand to brush his fingers lightly along his jaw, touching delicately as though still strangely uncertain. He shifted his knees to the side, bringing them up on to the sofa and shuffled nearer him, coming closer to Kurogane before kissing him tentatively, laying a long, soft peck like a gem on his cheek close to his lips while the TV nattered nonsense about the weather in the background, his heart beating loudly in bliss and protest as Kurogane's fingers curled about his arm.

Fye slowly tilted his head and brought his lips to Kurogane's, starting the process all over again, feeling Kurogane's arm slip about his back and his lips shifting and playing against his as though in sync, warm and beautiful. Time became engulfed and they began to lose themselves in its gentle ebb, softly separating only to breathe and fall into the other again, something beginning to unwind and set itself at ease inside them despite guilt and confusion picking at their insides. Fye had barely ever been kissed so gently, so preciously. He'd happily wallow in the happiness and warmth it evoked for as long as he could be allowed.

When they finally separated, Fye gave a smile, whole and satisfied, at peace with himself somehow and Kurogane flicked off the TV as Fye fell on to the back of the sofa, a keen and sparkling smile playing on his lips.

"Do you want to know something more about me?" Fye asked gently and slowly, his voice seeming to slip and slide in the atmosphere between them with his head held in hand, comfortably lying there.

Kurogane found himself smirking, finding something irresistible in that tone, something startlingly new and different in the way he softly pressed himself into the padding of the sofa. "Okay," he prompted.

"Mmmm," Fye hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his cheek lightly, slow and metronomic before breaking into a smile, lips curving smoothly, eyes digging deep into Kurogane with an endearing glitter, a wondrous expression. "I'm a twin. I'm adopted. I liked art and drawing when I was a kid. I stayed in a town less than an hour away from Hamburg… I used to have a cat called Moko. Her favourite food was tuna. My brother and I were always together. It was difficult to separate us." He smirked, broken from a drifting and disjointed train of thought. "He always had crazy ideas. He still does. He wrote a lot of stories and pretended to be monsters. I was a lot quieter but I still liked to explore and to see new things. We both had bikes and I'd take us out and we'd mess around in parks on the other side of town." He seemed to snap from his daydream then, to catch his voice drifting dreamily away, and continued in a much more solid voice, still silk smooth and captivating. "I've had two proper boyfriends before. One was when I was eighteen and we were only together for three months. I was only with the other for seven months. Neither was too special to me in the end. So…" He sighed, smiling happily, reaching his hand across and taking Kurogane's, his fingers slipping beneath his rough palm. "Still want to know more about me?" he asked, an enigmatic sparkle in his eyes.

Kurogane clenched his fingers about Fye's, slowly and pensively, touching upon his flesh as though immersing himself in new dimensions, new emotions and possibilities and feeling Fye stare, painfully still and cautious. He nodded.

"I like both coffee and tea. I hate answering phones. I liked my lab classes at university, not so much writing about them. I have online friends in Italy, America and Australia. I love very quiet and peaceful nights and I like films and books more than going out. I suppose I'm very simple that way," he laughed, smiling across to Kurogane and then allowing his eyes to flick over to the curtains, the night and darkness beneath them, flickers of lights interrupting the swathe of black. The lamps about them seemed to glow golden on their skins like an old and worn photograph, a vintage sepia tone.

Kurogane wordlessly leant over to clasp his shoulders in his palms, kissing him softly and momentarily on the lips. Fye himself remained almost frozen, perfectly still and seemingly lost, though he smiled delicately, warmly, something beautiful and precious gleaming in his eyes as Kurogane drew away.

Kurogane frowned, running a hand across the back of his head, feeling Fye's blonde locks slip and spill over his hand and through his fingers, and Fye brought himself across, kissing him deeply, as if testing the romance that had blossomed so suddenly between them, as if indulging in it. Even so his body felt stiff to Kurogane, felt awkward beneath his fingers and soon Fye pulled away, lips separating slowly and brushing moistly against his mouth.

"How old did I say I was?" Fye seemed to breathe against Kurogane's lips, eyes still closed though they opened slowly and flicked hesitantly towards Kurogane's, guilt ticking anxiously away inside.

"Twenty-four," Kurogane muttered as his arms slipped off Fye's shoulders, a tight frown developing suspiciously on his face.

"Mmmm," Fye sighed, resting his hands against Kurogane's arms, his posture straightening and becoming stiffer, his expression both apologetic and alert. He smiled softly; he leant forward to press a sorry and heart-felt kiss to Kurogane's cheek. "I'm twenty-one," he revealed in a voice, pained and small, skimming across Kurogane's skin before he drew away and continued. "I was twenty when we met. My birthday was about three months ago."

Kurogane's frown deepened, a tight and judgemental glare running over Fye uncertainly as he turned the fact over in his head. "There's eleven years between us…" he calculated.

Fye nodded, a soft and gentle bob, his smile curving into something very delicate and beautiful. "Do you mind?" he asked, his voice fragile and thick with care and apology though still strong, hopeful.

It seemed as though Kurogane paused for a moment but he shook his head very definitely, firm and certain. "I guessed you were still a student when you told me about your brother."

Fye smirked, dropping his head and allowing it to lie against Kurogane's chest for a moment, settling there comfortably and peacefully, his hands drifting, touching against his arms as Kurogane sat perfectly still and observant beneath him. He let himself sink into the feeling for just a moment, wonderfully warm and comforting, protected from everything, all of his secrets and lies and mistakes. It felt like it had all become meaningless somehow. And the weight began to lift, his body against Kurogane's.

"My name's not Fye," he blurted out, muffled slightly by Kurogane's shirt.

Kurogane tensed slightly, frowning down on him as though trying to judge whether to be annoyed or accepting. "So what is it?" he asked gruffly, pulling Fye away from his body slightly to stare him harshly in the eye.

"Yuui," Fye responded, smiling lightly, apologetically, almost challengingly towards Kurogane, "Fai is my brother's name." He stared straight into Kurogane, daring him to accept and move on, daring him to snap and yell at him for tricking him all this time, smiling weakly as though pleading him not to…

Kurogane's lip twitched as he spat, "Tch," closing his eyes as though deliberating how to react. "I'm still calling you Fye," he muttered awkwardly, a grumble of aggravation rumbling low in his voice though unspoken, without words.

"You've never called me Fye," the other responded with a slight laugh, grinning widely, tensely, reaching out and tapping his nose. "You called me 'you'. Which is very close."

"Fye," Kurogane said to him stubbornly, just to make a point, "Shut up."

Fye gave a small laugh as he shuffled himself away and shook his head, brushing loose strands of blonde from his forehead as they tossed about, a shuffled dance. Kurogane's frown merely deepened, granting his laughter no notice, blanking it out and suddenly Fye's heart sank like a stone, something sharp seeming to hit him and pierce him. It chilled him and he gave a sigh, closing his eyes and bringing his feet up on to the sofa to hug his knees to his chest. "I'm sorry," he said, genuinely and painfully, looking so lost and young.

"Don't apologise," Kurogane stated roughly, bitterly, and Fye's brow twitched a little in guilt.

"I deceived you. You don't deserve that," he explained, staring him firmly in the eye, serious and sorrowful, and he received no response other than a long, uncertain stare.

The silence between them was heavy and consuming as they both sat there, trying to force the perfect words into their mouths but in the end Kurogane heaved a breath, folded his arms. "... Apology accepted," he grumbled, lightly shutting his eyes, reluctant to dwell on the subject and forgiving the actions of a troubled soul, lost within the streets of Tokyo.

Fye gave a small, grateful smile, a little ripple of hope through the tension, and he sighed, slipping his palm awkwardly over Kurogane's, steadily taking in their differences, their sizes - his thin and pale and Kurogane's tan skin, his stronger, roughened hands beneath. The weight clenched inside him began to alleviate – emotions and lies and time... "How long do we have before I leave?" he asked nervously, a strangely small and clipped voice.

"Depends when you want to leave," Kurogane responded, his brow furrowing into a stiff frown.

Fye paused and pulled his hand away, blue eyes glinting fearfully, taking in that calm and patient stare of Kurogane's. Finally he gave a sigh, leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss to Kurogane's jaw in a resigned apology before uttering sadly, decisively, "Soon."

"Your brother?" Kurogane asked almost tentatively, watching Fye's expression carefully, his distant eyes and unfeeling look as he nodded. "It's fine. It's important," he tried to assure Fye though his voice was surprisingly weak, uncertain.

Fye gave a small smile, wrapping his hand about his arm again, that reassuring strength washing into him again and he felt something very small begin to break inside of him – regret blossoming like a gradual and tearing crack through his body.

Kurogane reached over for his passport, snatching it up from the cluttered coffee table and flipping through it with curious fingers, shining emblems he failed to recognise printed and stamped on the front, on the patterned pages streaming through his fingers. He landed on the back page and stared into the basic details of the lodger he'd known for 5 months now and yet reading through the information before him it was like staring into the life of a different person. Yuui Flowright; birthday: 2nd October; newly 21 years old and in the photo he looked so much younger - a bright, warm smile gleaming emptily and a hesitant stare, his face so rounded and premature, two glowing beads of translucent blue against a mop of blonde hair with a long fringe brushing against his eyes and youthful, unrefined skin: the teenager Fye had been not so long ago and painfully so.

Kurogane shut the passport book with a frown, a bitter stab, and went to start up his computer, carefully slipping Fye's hand from his arm, tenderly loosening his grip.

"Why lie about your age?" Kurogane asked as he patiently waited on the loading screen – a glowing blue against ticking time – and Fye smiled as Kurogane ducked the emotional mess that was the theft of a precious name. Like he already understood that tangled, throbbing conflict in him.

"Because I don't want to be 21," he answered, head tucked into the sofa and voice mumbled, drifting. "I don't want to be half-finished my degree or searching for boyfriends and trying to be a person. I want to be ... an individual... *und ich fühle mich so... so unwichtig, so eingeschränkt und hilflos und ich kann nur warten... I can only wait. I just want to be old enough so that it's all finished... I'm tired of waiting for that freedom." His eyes were empty and distant as though somehow ashamed and vulnerable. He gave a sigh, lost in an ocean where only he could feel the swell and the tide so acutely, and began picking at the material of the sofa, detached from Kurogane's strong and judging gaze.

[*(and I feel so... so unimportant, so restricted and helpless and I can only wait...)]

"You are yourself and you make choices. You have that freedom already. Use it to make yourself happy," Kurogane said abruptly though not harshly and span back to the computer screen, missing Fye's expression entirely – eyes staring widely and fondly into his back as though warmed to the core, mouth trembling a little sadly as though setting ripples in that hopelessness in his mind, pushing him further into unobtainable dreams. They were so painful because they were so questionable.

"I don't know what I want," he said clearly and calmly, pushing himself off the sofa and stepping closer to the desk, padding across the carpet as though empty of emotions and their pressing weight.

"You want to see your brother and you want to be different from him. That's enough for now," Kurogane reasoned, inclining his head just slightly as he opened the internet window and his voice ran low with the wisdom of years.

Fye's lips twitched slightly, breaking into a grin and he bent down to press a warm, wet kiss to Kurogane's cheek, his smile only widening as he registered how silently flustered the other man had become. "Thank you," he simply said and turned his attention to the screen, eyes picking through the flight details as he was guided home, feeling as though it were beyond his powers.

***

"The kids can't know anything," Kurogane stated severely, throwing his breakfast bowl down on to the draining board. "You leaving is bad enough. I don't want them getting confused or telling their mother about you."

Fye nodded carefully. "Understood."

"So…" Kurogane let out a heavy breath, falling against his usual place at the sink against the worktop. "They can't know."

Though Fye's mind seemed to be floating about somewhere completely different. "This is the last time I can see them," he sighed, clasping his head in his hands on the table.

"You're coming back," Kurogane muttered unsympathetically, "you'll see them again."

"I think of all people, you shouldn't be the one who tells me it doesn't matter," Fye muttered tensely, frowning tightly towards him. His expression slowly softened, eyes glimmering gently as he rolled a spoon about in his hands. "And you're right but I'll miss them…" He started to lightly tap the spoon against the table, a distraction, airy thoughts, a saddened sigh... "We don't know when I'm coming back either, they'll probably be big by then…"

There was an awkward pause as words became jumbled and misaligned in Kurogane's mouth. "I'm sure they'd want to keep in touch…" he grumbled roughly, avoiding Fye's eye contact as he folded his arms, knotted them firm and tight.

Fye laughed; a bright beam of a smile, something wondrous and joyous in that beautiful grin. "Is that the same for Kuro-tan?" he sang, setting the spoon down with a ring and standing up, sauntering over.

"Yeah maybe," Kurogane muttered, shifting his eyes over suspiciously to Fye as he leant against the worktop beside him.

"I'd like that," Fye stated softly, sending Kurogane his kindest smile, the warmest glow in his eyes.

"… I'd need an address," Kurogane said reluctantly, feeling his voice catch rather than run smoothly. He glared towards Fye as his smile grew wider still but the look was quickly ignored as Fye skimmed over to the fridge, ripping a piece of paper off the magnetic notepad stamped to the door.

He snatched a pen off the table and scribbled two addresses on to it in looping and sweeping handwriting. It seemed to dash and scribble yet glide and dance, catching Kurogane somewhere in the chest as he realised this was the first time he'd seen Fye's handwriting. But before he could work out what was so strange, so personal about this, Fye had finished and handed the piece of paper over to him, clutched between two fingers.

"The first is my flat in Hamburg though I'm not sure if I'll be staying there anymore or not," Fye explained as Kurogane took the note from his hand, eyes skimming over it in vague interest. "The second is my parents' house so I'm sure if you address it to me, they'll pass it on."

Fye frowned, his lips slid to the side and he pouted, staring towards this piece of paper which he snatched back, hastily flicking it from Kurogane's fingers and scrawling a quick note at the bottom as a footnote:

_Yuui Flowright  
- aka Fye ;)_

"My name," he said with a smile as he returned it to Kurogane.

He smirked, staring at the name and wandering over to the note-board in the corner where he plucked out a pin and set it on top of office dates and appointments.

"I hope you don't ignore it like everything else up there," Fye teased, wandering over and carefully touching a hand lightly to his arm, smiling preciously towards the board as though it symbolised everything he had found those past 5 months in Japan, every moment of happiness and each revelation to him.

"You'd make it hard," Kurogane grumbled roughly, his mouth nearly twitching into a smirk as Fye's fingers slowly slipped over his skin, gaining confidence and wrapping them about his arm, coming close to holding him.

"_Definitiv_," Fye laughed sweetly with a squeeze to his arm and reached over to peck him on the lips.

In the background a bell rang, just as Kurogane's fingers reached to touch his shoulder.

"I should go," Fye breathed with a mischievous smile, a twinkle in his eye. He set another kiss against Kurogane's lips, lingering for slightly longer this time before he unlatched himself from him, backing out the room and into the living room.

Kurogane was left in the kitchen, feeling the corners of his mouth twist, feeling lost and unnatural, a strange warmth rising within his chest, and then tried to push it back, shake it away before he turned to answer the door.

_**

* * *

a/n: **__Sorry if that seemed a little short but the kids make an appearance next chapter! *sits and waits nervously for response* _


	22. Things before we say goodbye

_**a/n:**__ I tried to contact someone to correct my German for this one but didn't get a response :( If you happen to speak German, I will love you if you could quickly drop a comment with any corrections! Thank you! (And I'm really sorry if any of the mistakes are awful o.o;;;) I got a reply! :D Thank you to everyone who responded with corrections or just general input! It was a big help and I hope things are looking better now!  
There are three instances of Kuro!fail in this chapter to look out for :D Hope you like it!_

_***_

Fye almost felt like a monster watching their little faces drop as Kurogane told them the news.

"But why?" Usui immediately cried. "He stays here now!"

Kurogane felt his teeth grit uneasily, frowning seriously towards his children. "This isn't his home. His home is back in Germany and he needs to get back to it." He glanced towards Fye sitting with a simple melancholy air on the sofa, watching them with a painted smile on his face - weak, thin and fake. However his sadness was reflected all too clearly in his eyes, glinting obviously and painfully as he smiled.

"He can stay here," Usui suggested seriously, his face scrunched stubbornly.

"He needs to see his family again," Kurogane tried to explain, standing before them with his arms folded. "It's been long enough and he needs to go home."

"We're his family now," Mio protested sweetly, tugging sadly at Fye's sleeve though he had no idea what she'd just said, noticing only that it seemed to throw Kurogane off his guard.

"Almost," Kurogane grumbled confusedly, trying to bury his surprise.

"What about the prince of Russia?" Usui asked with a suspicious frown.

"Who?" Kurogane immediately blurted out before he caught his tongue, remembering the little story he wound for them. "He died," he hastily invented.

The two children blinked at him, not quite sure what to think.

"Can we still see Fye?" Mio eventually mumbled.

Kurogane ground down on his teeth again, letting out a heavy and weary breath, battling against lying to his children or telling them a slightly more difficult truth. "It's too far away," he admitted with difficultly, feeling guilt stab him in the stomach as he saw their eyes widen pitifully. "You can hear from him but don't expect to see him too often." The last part was spoken in a far grittier tone than usual, reluctance grating in his voice.

Without thinking, he shifted forward to try to comfort them only to find they'd immediately latched on to Fye instead. Mio clambered up on to the sofa and wrapped her arms about one of Fye's and Usui hurried over, trying to push her out the way as he fought for Fye's attention. And even as Kurogane stepped forward to try to end that fight, Fye had stopped them himself, wordlessly, silently, tugging away Usui and patting the other side of the sofa with his free arm.

If it weren't so heart-breaking the sight might have made Kurogane sick – the two young children cuddling stubbornly into Fye like they were trying to permanently glue themselves to his arm and waist so that he could never leave them, his own arms about them, a weepy sort of sympathetic look on his face.

"You've got all day for that," Kurogane informed them, trying to assume his regular position of spoil-sport even if he understood they were upset, saw every reason why they should be.

"_Wir sollten ein letztes Mal gemeinsam backen_," Fye finally said, a warmer smile breaking out and glowing down to the children.  
_We should bake together one last time._

Amazingly, they recognised a single word in his sentence and started smiling, grinning excitedly.

***

The last thing he made for them was cookies and this time Kurogane didn't even bother to pretend to be doing something else – fixed to paper work or bills, leafing through documents or finishing laundry. He sat in a chair at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee languidly watching the scene before him: Fye with his sleeves rolled up and a bowl clutched in hand, beating the mix with easy flicks of his wrist, the children tugging at his clothes and he'd pass them down the bowl with an angelic smile, asking them to beat the mix with an easy grin and gentle voice that seemed to crack the language barrier altogether. Occasionally he'd lick some of the mix from his fingers as sharp blue eyes darted about the children's every move, watching them fondly, warily. He'd tug Usui away roughly and sigh a few soft words when he tried to dump the mix in his sister's hair. He'd clasp and guide Mio's hands with the cutter. He'd smile and he'd laugh and call Kurogane over to reach something from the top shelf even when they both knew he could manage it himself.

He somehow understood the fact he did it anyway was special.

"I hope you're taller when you get back," he grumbled heartlessly and needlessly as he tossed the sugar over, trying to ignore the soft and guilty tremble in Fye's smile.

"I'm finished growing," Fye sighed, his joke stumbling and tripping on his tongue before he turned back to the children, sugar clasped to his chest. "I'm not _that _young, Kuro-tan!"

"It was a joke," he mumbled awkwardly though he wondered if Fye considered it a pained remark on his age, wondered if _he_ somehow meant it to be about his age.

"Hmmm," Fye sighed dismissively, sauntering over to the mix and shaking the sugar in his hands, that touch of hurt still hinting in the tight furl in his lips, cracking a little as he tried to smile. "You're not very good at joking, Kuro-sama."

Trying to ignore the confused and pouty glances of his children as they became excluded from something of seemingly pressing importance that was clearly upsetting Fye, he grit his teeth and reached out to clamp a hand about Fye's arm, urgently and assertively, muttering low against his ear, "You're not young or immature and I wouldn't have kissed you if you were."

Fye's eyes remained dull and unreadable but a certain warmth reached his smile and he reached out to run his fingers over his hand, glancing cautiously over to the children, wary of confusing them. "Thank you," Fye breathed in a low voice in response then slipped back over to the children with a bowl, forcing a laugh, cracking out his brightest smile and it almost stunned Kurogane, almost sickened him how stupidly easy it is for Fye to act, changing moods like shirts, shrugging the damp ones off.

He gave a smirk as he recognised the dubious, befuddled look in his children's eyes just before they were washed away by his cheer.

***

For a while all Mio seemed to be doing was looping her crayon over and over the paper, dragging it in circles with a sad little pout, putting them down in a scattered heap rather than neatly setting them back inside the box with all the perfect order and array of a rainbow as she usually did. Tidying up at the kitchen worktop, wiping smeared cookie dough off the surfaces and cleaning up bowls, all Fye could do was pass a concerned glance over to her, guilt burrowing tight in his stomach.

Perhaps 5 months had been too long...

In the living-room he could hear her brother playing with his toys, babbles and screeches and little warrior noises, but even he sounded less enthusiastic – a step away from dead-pan; unenthused. The flat seemed sober, silent and lifeless as though mourning his departure prematurely – a dull and infectious sorrow clinging meekly to the air. Fye gave a sigh as he scrubbed, biting his lip and trying not to allow at least a faint and warming smile to fall from his lips. He couldn't appear sad to them on this very last day. He couldn't break their hearts more than he already had.

After spending another few minutes watching the little girl scribbling messily, miserably, he didn't want to stand by any more. Instead, he dropped his cloth and sauntered over, pulling the chair out across from her carefully with a bright smile. As her wide eyes blinked pleadingly up to him, he felt that prong of guilt twist another little notch and tried to dismiss it, simply leaning over and clasping her wrist with a gentle touch, stilling her hand.

"_I didn't want to hurt you and I definitely don't want to leave you or your family... especially not your father. But I have my own family. You won't think so right now but if you were ever separated from your brother, you'd miss him terribly. He annoys you and when you're older, you'll wish you weren't in the same family... but if he was gone... it'd hurt... really badly_." He stopped as he registered the quiver in his voice, his breath about to catch and keeping the tears seeping into his eyes in check, leaning away and letting his hand fall from Mio's arm as he smiled with a weak and confident tweak in his lips that trembled for just a moment longer than he'd like.

Mio was such a clever girl... she was staring up at him with mild alarm and hurt, clawing out for his hand again and, when he ignored her pleas, merely smiled thinly once more, she slipped off her seat and moved over to his chair, clutching at his arm instead.

It felt like something had just snapped inside of him, began crumbling to pieces, and it was far too much of an effort to maintain his smile when it was folding itself up into a crease, becoming teary-eyed and pained just looking at her trying to give him all the warmth and comfort she could.

He held his arms out as though beckoning her to climb on to his seat and she did so obediently – that same worried gleam shining innocently in her eyes – as he wrapped her tight in his arms, making sure her head was tucked into his shoulder as two drips of tears slithered down his face. No more followed but still he clutched her tight and she wrapped her arms around him in return, trying to heal a broken heart as best as she could and somehow managing to both piece it back together, warm it whole again, and shatter the pieces even further. A feeling in Fye's chest trembled a little and then found itself soothed. Her body was so tiny in his own arms and her voice so small and pitched, squeaking a question into his ear.

All he could do was smile and cradle her a little as though recovering from a momentary shock, as though waking up after falling apart and coming together again. He grinned and set her down, hastily smearing tracks of lonely, pointless tears with the back of his hands and wishing he could make her smile in the same way she'd done for him.

She still clutched his hand, frowning patronisingly and he almost laughed at her concern. He pushed a strand of hair away from her eyes, dotingly sweeping it across her brow and tucked it behind her ear, smiling warmly. "_Ich werde dich so sehr vermissen, Mio-chan."  
I'm going to miss you so much, Mio-chan..._

Blinking up at him strangely, like she was afraid by the tone of his voice he was about to stand and leave and she'd never see him again, she tightened her grip about his hand and tried to embrace him again, only managing to meekly clutch his sides.

Fye gave a sigh, pulling all her hair away from her bowed head and moved to stand, gently peeling away her hands and making a big show of only returning to his tidying. Still, for a while she merely stood and stared at him with a small look of hurt and pain before shuffling back to her seat and clambering back on it to resume her scribbling.

Fye gave a little frown as he began drying some dishes, watching her distantly, both just as hurt before.

That same tension seemed to hit Kurogane as he walked into the room and he passed anxious glances between his daughter and his room-mate... lodger... romantic interest before decidedly taking out the same seat Fye had pulled out minutes before, scraping it forward and leaning in to view Mio's pictures. He frowned concernedly before heaving a breath and picking up Mio's crayons, slotting them all back into place in the box.

Clearly unsatisfied with the order he'd arranged them in, Mio clawed out for the box over the table, reached out with a huffy pout and started ordering her precious crayons again with a meticulous eye. For a moment Fye could swear a tweak of a smile had come over Kurogane's lips.

Her father reached out and grasped her scribbled, messy drawings and peered at them in what looked like concern, poring over them with a frown as Mio tottered on the edge of her seat awaiting his judgement.

In the end, Kurogane simply handed them back, gave a few muttered, stern words to his daughter and left the room but, as she watched him leave, Mio was grinning, and soon Usui had come through to join her scribble and scrawl, devouring warm cookies in a scatter of crumbs. For half an hour or so they'd given up on moping and were drawing so intently that Fye brought Kurogane through to talk to him – planes and cars and arrival times.

The day was surprising quiet and focused, both children preferring to spend their remaining time with Fye in the same room as him, near mutely drawing and cutting and gluing, causing little mess and fuss for two small siblings. Dinner came and went, quietly and painfully, so hushed that Fye felt unsettled merely sitting at the same table as the others, disturbing this wonderful family with all its oddity and warmth.

It was only when they both handed him a picture of himself with their widest smiles, tolerating their sibling to hold it up proudly to him, that he realised every single one of those pictures was for him. They'd spent their entire afternoons drawing gifts for him, little memories in the hope he'd smile and remember them while he was gone.

By the end of the evening, the plate of cookies lay ravaged on the table and pieces of paper were strewn all over the table, dropped on the floor, sitting on Fye's sofa-bed like the heart-felt little blessings they were. They sat on either side of him ending a rainforest just to make him smile, to be certain he knew that he was loved by them... There were balloons and smiles and hearts, cars and dinosaurs, stick-figure girls in stick-figure dresses and all four of them standing together as one whole unity under a happy sickly yellow sun. They practiced their Japanese over the paper and Kurogane shakily corrected them, translated them into unsteady English.

For the most part he sat awkwardly surveying the scene - the focused pouts and tongues poking through lips as his children drew and Fye's loopy, almost distant smile. Kurogane said as little as possible, merely sat back with a warm sense of pride, inspecting a picture every now and then, praising them or teasing them with that blunt tone they all knew too well to be fooled by. If there was ever a quiet lull where not a word was spoken, not a fraction of attention was dropped, then he'd sit back in his seat and draw in the image of the three others together, smiling peacefully.

When it was finally time for bed and he'd herded the two children to their room, tidying up the paper trail with Fye, the scattered pens and scraps of drawings, they drank in the still warm silence hidden soft within the night and smiled without a word. Laden with drawings, leafs of paper sitting neat and heavy in his arms, Fye leaned over to kiss him on the cheek for a moment.

Despite the fact he'd broken their truce, Kurogane couldn't bring himself to protest or complain. The warmth within that smile Fye shone, simple and pure, somehow made up for five months of arguments and painfully slow evolution.

***

The moment he stepped into their room, switching on the table lamps and flicking the main switch off so that all that was left was a whispering warm glow, he found himself under interrogation.

"How did he die?" Usui asked adamantly, with sharp and determined eyes that reminded him too much of himself when he was that age.

"His brother did it," Kurogane invented on the spot, sounding so wise and confident to his young and impressionable children despite stumbling to add, "Fye's twin brother."

"He has a brother?" Mio asked in awe, clutching the teddy to her chest and bobbing back and forward a little, eyes held wide even though she was slowly sinking into sleep.

"Yeah he does but he had to get left behind in Germany... when Fye came here he was in a ... very deep sleep. He got a curse placed on him by an evil witch," he carefully revealed, allowing the story to haphazardly unfold within his mind and praying that Fye wouldn't ever hear or understand any of this. He set himself down on the bed, feeling it bounce beneath him, feeling their gazes bore beneath his skin.

"Did he wake up?" Usui almost snapped.

"Of course he did," Kurogane grumbled with a certainty to his tone, thinking over deeper things beneath the childish skin of the story.

The diamond thief's brother lay in the middle of a garden in a very, very deep sleep. Nothing could wake him it was said. But the garden was filled with apples and roses and oranges and the most delicious of fruit and brightest of blooms. They surrounded his slumbering body lying immobile in the very centre.

One day a boy came along and he was bold and he was fearless. He'd heard of the magical sleeping properties of the fruit and had come all the way from Italy to Germany to steal some apples for his insomniac grandmother. He snapped the rusty lock and leapt over the steep barricade; he plundered through dense undergrowth and swiped at scratchy branches and prickly thorns, but the moment he plucked a rosy red apple from a branch, he heard a yawn and a young man muttering sleepily. To the left of him was a blonde man identical to the infamous diamond thief, blinking off sleep.

It didn't take long for disagreements to ensue and for the sleeping man to start accusing the kid of breaking, entering and consequent theft while the kid pleaded innocence however the young thief was wily. He told the young man all about his brother's misfortunes that had occurred since he'd fallen asleep.

The blonde man was appalled and immediately snatched at the younger previously-thief, declaring that he would end this with his help.

Travelling together to Russia in a golden carriage, the two trundled on to vengeance and, once introduced to the prince, the brother swiftly defeated him in a sweeping, snapping sword fight to the death. The prince defeated, the brother was hailed a hero and gifted his own empire while the young thief was declared honorary side-kick and granted his freedom.

Immediately, the young man called his brother to explain to him that he was safe and avenged, pleading him to return home.

The diamond thief declined.

He sent over all his diamonds and precious gifts to his brother, apologising profusely but claiming he had already settled at home with the ninja who had helped him escape.

He thanked his brother endlessly, praised him for his heroic deeds, thanked the heavens that he lived but still he could not bring himself to leave Japan.

***

"Was he in love?" Mio asked, gleaming eyes prying for her perfect fairytale ending.

Kurogane paused for a moment, awkwardly frozen to the spot, his brow furrowing... "Yeah... something like that," he said, feeling a tight ball catch in his throat as he said the words.

***

It had become almost a ritual, sitting in front of that TV, channel flicking with the mute button on at night even though there was nothing on. This time though, the very last time, Kurogane lounged on his sofa with his arm wrapped hesitantly around Fye's shoulders, frowning like he had no idea what he was doing or why and clenching the top of Fye's arm now and again, something grateful and adoring. It made Fye smile, his head pressed into against the sofa, made him grin and try not to stifle a delighted laugh though even he felt some restraint within the motion, felt something overwhelmingly awkward in their closeness; clumsy in their haste. At the very same time, he wanted to savour as much of this moment as he could.

He raised his face a small fraction and brought his lips lightly and tenderly to Kurogane's neck, a kiss dissolved in all the trapped adoration he'd felt over the past few months. He paused when Kurogane began to shift awkwardly under his touch, tensing slightly, unused to the sudden affection after months spent single and alone, before then confined within an ultimately unhappy marriage. Not to say that he didn't enjoy Fye touching or kissing him, it was just something that would unfortunately take a week or two to become accustomed to after spending so long assuring himself Fye was a neutral companion, a cleaner, a roommate, a tenant, a runaway… He pulled him closer into him, little wafts of blonde hair drifting softly against his face.

With a sad smile and a mournful gaze in his eyes, Fye's arms wrapped about his body, his fingers brushing against the back of his shirt uncertainly. "Kurogane…" he sighed in mild frustration, his voice slightly muffled against Kurogane's shoulder-blade as he rested his head down against him, sitting in that niche comfortably as though it was always supposed to be there, like he was always meant to lie against Kurogane this way.

"…Yeah?" Kurogane asked with a ball caught awkwardly in his throat, channel flicking to set a mood of extreme disinterest as he pretended not to feel Fye's fingers drifting and probing softly against his back.

"Well… first of all," Fye started, twisting his head slightly to look up at him, "you're terrible at faking." A sweet smile curled softly on his lips as he snuggled further into Kurogane, felt his heart beats thudding with a heavy and desperate pace through his chest. "Secondly… the children are in bed…" He let his fingers wander gracefully over his back, let his smile deepen playfully.

Kurogane almost choked, jolting forward and raising his eyebrows. "Isn't it a bit… early?" he grumbled apprehensively, frowning towards Fye curiously.

"Huh?... oh… I didn't mean it _that_ way," Fye laughed, unwrapping his arms from Kurogane's body and drifting away slightly, smiling amusedly. He rested his hands against the sides of Kurogane's face and let out a slow breath that seemed to ease relief and contentment, staring into him fondly and letting his fingers brush lightly against his cheeks. His mouth opened for a moment and then he shut it again, words becoming stuck within his mouth. He glanced almost warily towards Kurogane, seemingly in thought before raising his lips, allowing his face to drift to the side of Kurogane's, to pause there before pressing a small, moist kiss into the corner of skin just beside his ear, his breath trickling hot and thick from his nose against Kurogane's face, causing his chest to knot and unwind, a smirk to appear on his face and then disappear again, reaching for Fye's shoulders and pulling him in.

Fye fell into the kiss without protest, wrapping his arms tenderly about Kurogane's neck as they locked lips, as they seemed to dig softly into each other's flesh, searching and probing gently for that feeling, that sensation that they connected perfectly. It was easily found, something lying just above the surface as if it was waiting for them, sitting just within reach as their fingers moved about their bodies slowly and carefully, both hesitant and hasty, enamoured and lusting. They both opened their mouths slightly wider, sharing more of one another and seeming to plunge ever deeper into that soft feeling as if they wanted to fall into it, nestle warmly within the unity they felt between them. Gradually, with building, budding confidence, Fye slipped a knee over Kurogane's legs, shuffling over until he was perched on top of his lap, sliding his hands to his shoulders and pressing him against the sofa as he brought his lips slowly away from his and took a breath, the air passing softly through to his lungs. He smiled preciously, the hint of a smirk.

Kurogane paused for a moment, shutting his eyes and listening to his pulse throb heavily within him, and then slowly opened them again, gazing up towards Fye and taking his time looking at him, drawing his eyes over his body despite his weight digging into his legs. He took in the small and fragile smile, its almost imperceptible curve, that deep and knowing gaze in his chill blue eyes that sparkled so warmly and yet appeared so afraid of these new boundaries they were pushing together, opening unexplored pathways in a strange and uncomfortable relationship. And then there was his body – something Kurogane wondered if he had ever noticed or ignored; something so beautifully pale and smooth, soft and silky to his touch he could shiver holding Fye against him. It seemed strange to him that only now these thoughts were occurring to him, of how neatly and cherishingly Fye smiled towards him, of how… attractive – yes, that was definitely the word, he realised – Fye was, how there was something pulsing between them. Perhaps it was merely a feeling that had been growing with time. Either way it seemed as though this was something he'd sorely needed, something wonderful and unavoidable that made him feel so strangely fulfilled for kissing a younger, foreign man's body.

He tenderly wrapped his arms about him waist, tugging him gently into him before Fye's knees slipped off his legs, jolting him forward into Kurogane so that he was practically straddling him. For a moment, Kurogane thought Fye was about to blush, the way his eyes widened in surprise, the way he bit his lip as his heart lurched and pounded fiercely in his chest. But instead he inhaled, gently and carefully as though to savour this touch and immortalise it, a warm lump of air expanding softly in his chest. He smiled once more, allowing Kurogane's arms to pull him into his chest, bringing his arms adoringly about his back. He rested his face against his shoulder, a dreamy smile playing upon his lips, sparkling in his eyes and Kurogane knotted his hands about his back, listening to the musical thrum of Fye's heart against him, feeling his chest expand and contract like a warm and fleshy bellow. He supposed Fye was young. He supposed the young and introverted Fye wasn't all that used to any sexual acts just yet, that he wouldn't be accustomed to being held in this way, feeling so much of their flesh connect, feeling Kurogane's body against his in so many places and ways his heart skipped out of sync.

Kurogane let out a warm breath of air through his nose and laid his head against the back of Fye's, inches from brushing his slender neck. His hair was light and ticklish, floating against Kurogane's nose and brushing his face; his scent was soft and almost powdery, so wonderfully pure and calming. Kurogane found something appealing to it almost immediately.

"So…" Fye eventually mumbled into his shoulder, his tone somehow stiff and guilty, "is this right?" His fingers tightened their grip on Kurogane's back anxiously.

Kurogane frowned for a minute, realising how this could be judged. "We're not hurting anyone. I don't see a problem," Kurogane muttered back, his breath pattering against Fye's neck and his voice rippling down his spine. To say he was completely free of concern would be a lie – others finding out about this little liaison would certainly be troublesome for him – but at the same time he saw no need to allow his concerns to prevent him from doing what he damn well pleased.

He brought a hand around and clasped Fye's chin, teased him about until they were face to face, hesitant and adoring eyes staring into firm but uncertain ones, and he kissed him again, a soft and assuring touch.

They separated carefully, awkward smiles and throbbing hearts; strands of blonde hair pushed away behind an ear and Kurogane's arms falling around his back one more.

"I mean wrong for us. Why kiss like this if it can't last..." He gave a sad sigh, smiling softly all the same though it seemed to throb a little with the echoes of heartbreak. "Do you think we've found something?" Fye almost whispered into him as his fingers stroked tenderly at his skin.

For once Kurogane paused and frowned, taken slightly back at the question that seemed so brutally forward to him, breaking into their small and fragile circle. Though he understood the importance of the question as he stared into Fye's eyes, absorbing their thoughtful glint that seemed to fear both time and consequence.

He drew his eyes awkwardly away from his, muttering to the side. "I think…" He stopped and paused, wondering exactly what he thought with all these separate thoughts and emotions seeming to fly about his body and his mind chaotically without end or pause, twisting his conscience and beliefs. "You're someone different... and you mean a lot that way." Vague enough to be the truth and tender enough to be kind, he hoped.

Whether it was the right thing to say or not, Fye was warmed by it, smiling and giving a dry, silent laugh to himself. He glanced down shyly then ran his hand along Kurogane's face like he'd never been told he was wonderful or attractive before, drawing his fingers silkily down his jaw. He grinned with a special sort of preciousness to it, a sense of happiness he'd never shown to Kurogane before and slowly, still smiling, he bent down to peck his lips, leaving a wondrously soft and beloved touch on Kurogane's lips, making a sweet little puckering noise as they separated.

Neither of them said a word, could say a word – staring and smiling meekly into the other with distant, pensive gazes. Fye's tongue steadily swept the inside of his cheek. He closed his eyes, gave a slow and steady smirk and clutched Kurogane's face in his hands. With barely a second's pause, he pulled them tightly together, locking lips suddenly and forcefully, opening his mouth wide and slipping his tongue into Kurogane's mouth with a tiny joyous tremble of his skin, as if this was something he'd always needed to do, this was one connection they'd needed to build and one bridge they were destined to cross. To begin with, it took Kurogane aback, barely able to sense that sudden shift from shy and tender to bold and passionate within Fye but he didn't resist or pull back, placing a hand against the back of Fye's neck, wrapping another about his hips, and pulling his closer in, deepening their kiss. He felt with an almost fateful savouring, his own tongue joining the embrace, skimming against Fye's own tongue and mouth with such pleasure it made his spine shiver and twist, Fye's smooth and long fingers running down his back and his own hand shifting further down and down his body, pulling them closer, causing their blood to pound… it lasted for a long time. Time ticked away without either of them caring to track it.

They were suddenly interrupted, another weight dropping on to the side of the sofa, bouncing it and causing Fye to unlatch from Kurogane, spinning around to stare widely and fearfully towards Mio.

She seemed to stare at them for a few moments with her head tilted to the side, cataloguing this sight as something new and very unexpected she wasn't able to define or make sense of.

"Mio-chan…" Fye breathed anxiously as he gazed towards her, his hands lying loosely on top of Kurogane's shoulders and pausing sat on top of him, frozen in place, as if he felt moving would only deepen his guilt at this point, confuse the poor child even more than she perhaps was.

She broke into a wide and shy grin, waddling over on top of the sofa padding and wrapping her arms about Fye.

He immediately broke into a laugh, both relieved and somehow delighted, gazing cherishingly towards Kurogane's daughter and squeezing her tightly in his arms like a beloved niece, holding her with all the regret and worry he felt at leaving Japan so soon, all the love that had been growing quietly within him for those months he'd spent with them. He tousled her hair lightly, whispering sweetly into her ear, "_Du hast nichts gesehen, klar_?"  
_You didn't see anything, right?_

Amazingly she nodded. Fye's eyebrows shot up in surprise and Kurogane leaned forward curiously. Both of them seemed to believe she'd merely recognised it was a doting question but still there was something touched in the way Fye smiled towards her. "_Ihr werdet mir so sehr fehlen... du und dein Bruder. Aber weißt du wie glücklich ihr euch schätzen könnt, so einen wundervollen Vater zu haben?_" He gave her one last final squeeze and then let go, allowing her to fall into her father's chest, wrapping her arms sweetly and sleepily about him.  
_I'll miss you both so so much... you and your brother. But do you know how lucky you are to have a wonderful father like him?_

"Tch," Kurogane muttered, smirking at the emotion of it all. He switched back to Japanese, gripping her arms tight, watching her sleepy eyes blink open. "You should be in bed by now. You should be fast asleep and I don't want to hear another sound out of you, got it?"

She nodded with a tired little bob of her head, falling against him. Fye slipped slowly off his lap, breathing in fresh air free their rushed romantics, grinning contentedly nonetheless and joining Kurogane as he tucked the child back into bed, wrapped the sheets protectively about her and said goodnight.

On the way to Kurogane's bedroom, Fye wrapped his fingers gently about Kurogane's wrist, tenderly grasping it in his own as if they were walking through an autumn dappled park on a beautifully crisp and romantic day. A first date. They shared melancholy look, passing through the doorway and into the dimly lit living-room, thinking of the things altering and shifting between them and the plane tickets cutting this secret blossoming back down to the roots before it was barely budding.

***  
_**a/n: **__Hope you liked several pages' worth of just making out xD;;;  
Again, a huge thank you to shhdonttell123 off livejournal for drawing and putting up so many wonderful pictures based off this story :D And this story was also nominated for the UFO fanfiction awards under WIPs so a gigantic thank you goes out for that too! I think voting finishes at the end of April. If you're interested, I'll try to type out the address without ff dot net freaking out about it – www [dot] dotmoon [dot] net/awards/awards_vote [dot] php (obv replace all the dots in brackets) – because there other great fanfics from Tsubasa there to vote for and other fandoms too!_


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